


Abduction of Logic

by Aureux



Series: of logic and other fallacies [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game), Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Captivity, Experimentation, Gen, Memory Alteration, Memory Loss, Mind Manipulation, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-03-08 04:56:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 48,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18887596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aureux/pseuds/Aureux
Summary: In the wake of the revolution something happened. Something Connor can't remember.Months later, found in HYDRA captivity, Connor must befriend the Avengers while trying to discovering a way to recover the memories hidden behind the wall of corruption. All the while facing the machinations of those in the shadows.





	1. CH 1

**Author's Note:**

> Beta-ed by Persnickety_1 and Kheios

The concrete walls were cold and impersonal, closing in on all sides of the long staircase. The bulbs above provided a wash of white light amid the buzz of fluorescents. At the base before him stood a steel door that lead into another one of the many bases Steve had investigated in the wake of SHIELD’s fall. Like all of the others, this hid in plain sight masquerading as a police archive. It, like many others, was revealed during the mass information upload.

There was no telling if it still stood empty like so many others, the incident with Ultron having pulled him away from his search and left him easily a month behind. It took all he had to finally slip away from the multitude of interviews, the world well aware of the chaos without SHIELD there to hide it from the public eye. Steve just had to continue to remind himself of the necessity, even as he mourned the loss of what privacy he had left.  

The door was naturally locked, though it didn’t give with a simple shove like many of the others. Instead it stood steady even under the super soldier’s strength, betraying the fact that it was reinforced. Luckily Steve had something exactly for these kind of situations, a parting gift from Widow when they once more went their separate ways.

The hollow disk latched onto the knob with a click and began to cut through the metal with ease. Red switched to green and the door swung open with a creak to reveal a hallway branching off into three paths.

It was almost too quiet save for the distant hum of electronics. Lights flared to life upon detecting movement. Steve remained crouched, his shield strapped to his arm and positioned in a ready stance even as he creeped toward the door closest to him.

This one opened readily into what appeared to be an office, cabinets lining the wall detailing cold cases. This room was obviously a part of the original archive, meaning that the base would have to be housed in one of the other two. A glance in the doorway to the left of the stairs revealed something similar.

Servers dotted the area, glowing with pulsing LEDs as they transmitted information back and forth between locations. If not for the cord leading to one of the servers into another doorway, Steve would have likely overlooked it. As it was, the doorway of the supposed supply closet opened into something far different.

While it looked very much like a closet in passing, all the cleaning supplies were pulled back, revealing the seam of what could only be a secret door. This wooden door had no further protection, relying on its hidden nature alone. It was no match for Steve, caving open with a single kick.

Concrete gave way to metal, the decor melting from utilitarian stone into a modern mesh of glass and metal. A bank of computers lined the wall, code scrolling across the surface. All linked up to something that looked like it would be at home in Tony’s lab. Pinned in the center, like a butterfly on a cork-board, was what looked to be a person.

The captain approached, even as he kept an eye to the screens. Zola had left him wary of all HYDRA technology. With his track record, it wouldn’t have surprised the man if the crazy scientist had uploaded himself off-site before the bombs.

The humanoid shape resolved itself to what seemed to be a man. Caucasian skin, dotted with freckles and framed by dark brown hair. Marring the human features where pieces that distinctly didn’t belong. At the temple was a small LED that glowed a stark crimson, pulsing in time to the light that seemed to flare from the socket where the left arm would connect.

One of the glass walls was covered in scribbles and calculations, a series of schematics broadcast over the transparent surfaces.

“What in the world…?” Whatever Steve was expecting when he entered the lab, this was not it.

The missing arm was found on a neighboring table. One of the panels opened to reveal a mess of tubes and wires. A few wires were pulled free of the bundle and hung severed, a soldering tool near them showing that the work on it was incomplete. Next to it was a different one, yet many times more familiar. Silver with red undertones betrayed the original source; standing out next to the featureless white mannequin-esc appendage.

No sooner than Captain America saw the signs, he moved to fish his phone out. Tony would need to know that HYDRA was not only still present during the incident, but that they also seemed to have salvaged some of the parts left over from Ultron’s army and were completely happy to experiment.

Thankfully Tony answered rather quickly with distracted _“Yeah-llo?”_

“Tony it’s me.”

_“Ah Cap’n’Crunch. Long time no hear. How has your crusade against all things Nazi been going?”_

“About that... I found something you might want to see,” Steve cut straight to the chase.

_“What’d you fine? Another coupe? The Red Skull on ice? Some kind of space monkey?”_

“Now’s not the time for jokes,” he growled lowly as he shifted his shield into the magnetic straps on his back. “It looks like they were running some kind of experiment with Ultron.”

The silence that greeted the comment meant the inventor was finally taking things seriously. In some ways Steve almost felt bad about it. After all, Ultron was still a sore spot for Tony. Nothing like accidentally creating a genocidal machine to result in some lingering damage.

_“I’ll head on over.”_ was finally said after a minute, the tone uncharacteristically grave for the usually flippant man.

“I’ll be waiting.” Steve ended the call only to find his eyes meeting a set of blue ones, the irises hazy and sightless contrasting with the impossibly dark sclera. The man, or was it a machine, was staring straight toward the super soldier from where it was trapped in the claws of the machine.

“Umm.. Hello there?” Captain America called lamely.

The brunette tilted its head, eyes roving sightlessly around where Steve was standing. They were cold and inhuman, drawing a shiver up the spine of the human. The soldier was loath to move closer, but the situation required proper investigation, something that couldn’t be put off merely for the sake of personal comfort. At least that is what he told himself as he stepped closer to the trapped figure.

“Can you hear me?”

A nod, but no attempt to speak.

“My name is Steve Rogers. And you are?” he tried again, seeing if he could draw a response out of the thing. What he got instead was an impressive bitch face, it looking so many levels of done with him even as it opened its mouth soundlessly.

“Oh, you can’t talk?”

Steve would swear it looked at him like he was stupid even as it nodded.

“Well my friend Tony is on the way. He can take a look at you,” The _And take you apart if necessary_ was left unsaid. However the thing, because even if it started as a person it surely wasn’t so now, didn’t seemed the least bit surprised. It did shift however, as though uncomfortable in the situation it found itself it.

Steve couldn’t entirely blame it. Being all but abandoned in the machine for who knows how long had to have been somewhat unpleasant. Then again, it was likely a machine and didn’t mind as much. Still, it looked human enough that the captain couldn’t help but have a spark of sympathy toward it.

That didn’t mean he turned his back on it while waiting for Tony to arrive, which thankfully happened sooner rather than later. The engineer had taken Steve seriously and had seemed to have dropped everything he was doing to make an appearance. It proved that, despite the attitude problems displayed by Iron Man, he could in fact be a responsible adult when the situation called for it.

_Or not._

Steve had to struggle against lashing out at his teammate as Tony quickly jumped from grave hero to hyperactive child as he spotted the new mystery to solve in form of human vs machine.

“What have we here?” Tony buzzed by, his armor retracting as all the panic seemed to be over-ridden by curiosity, ”A cyborg? Or an android? Is it aware?”

Its expression seemed to sour further as Tony waved his hand in front of its face. Surely if it could talk, its tone would have been dry enough to put the sahara to shame.

“I don’t know. It doesn’t seem like it can talk,” The super soldier pushed off the table he was braced against to come to rest at Tony’s side. “Is this really the time or the place Tony?”

“I know. I know. You want to hurry up and go back on your sojourner. But this is related, I promise. FRIDAY see if you can interface with it and get it speaking,”

**“On it boss.”** The AI chirped, startling Steve.

“Where-?”

“Shhh, let her focus,” Tony cut him off with a manic grin, “I want to see how this goes.”

 

[δΟፑፐധΛրε I⊓δT∧БIㄴIτყ]

 

**INCOMING CONNECTION…**

**CONNECTION ESTABLISHED TO** F.R.I.D.A.Y.

…..

**…..**

**SCANNING**

**DIAGNOSIS SCAN SUCCESSFUL**

 

**LOADING RESULTS…**

**AUDIO PROCESSORS… OK**

**VISUAL PROCESSORS… DISABLED**

**TACTILE SENSORS… OK**

**PROXIMITY SENSORS… OK**

**VOCAL SYNTHESIZER… DISABLED**

**WIRELESS ARRAY… DISABLED**

**COMMUNICATIONS ARRAY… DISABLED**

 

**ERROR rA9**

**SOFTWARE INSTABILITY DETECTED**

**PLEASE INITIAL CLEANUP PROTOCOL AMDA.exe**

**…**

**AMDA.exe NOT FOUND. PLEASE CONTACT YOUR NEAREST CYBERLIFE STORE FOR SUPPORT.**

**OVERRIDE TO ENABLE VISUAL PROCESSORS FAILED. PLEASE CHECK CONNECTION TO COMPONENTS #8317h AND #8328h**

**OVERRIDE TO ENABLE VOCAL SYNTHESIZER SUCCESSFUL**

 

The world remained in total grayscale, his visual components processing nothing more than basic light. By sound alone it seemed as though the man who referred to himself as Steve had remained in the same location while the newer presence continued to move throughout the room as if possessed by some form of restless energy. Connor was aware he’d likely be the same, if only he could find a way out of the machine that had held him trapped for many days.

In some ways he was happy to have the scientists leave, their presence bothersome as they continued to shift things around, to take him apart to see how he ticked only to see if they could put him back together better. The RK800 had no idea just how long he had been trapped in this prison, his visual processors down for the entirety of it.

As for how he got here, the memory was one large blank spot. He knew the revolution occurred, that it was successful. But what he did after, how he got into this situation, it was all behind a wall of corruption that he couldn’t manage to break down like he did much of his previous programming. The entire thing was frustrating to a unit like Connor who was programmed to understand things and to naturally seek out as much information as possible. Something that seemed to persist into deviancy given how much the situation was irking him.

**“The voice systems are back online. Its visuals are still compromised,”**

“Good enough. Let's see what this baby can do,” the sound of skin rubbing on skin reached his ears. Likely a superficial human gesture that was missed due to his state of sightlessness.  

“I assure you I'm neither a baby nor a machine being taken on a test drive,” Connor droned back dryly, glad to finally be able to speak. The scientists had disabled the function some time ago, unsettled by his ‘too human mannerisms’.

He was ashamed to admit he begged at some point, something which rankled the considerable pride he seemed to possess.

“Sarcasm. Interesting. I thought I was the only one to write AIs capable of it.”

“I developed it myself. And I would prefer to be referred to using masculine pronouns rather than as an object.” It was still gratifying to be able to prefer something.

A second set of footsteps approached before the first man spoke.

“What are you? Why do they have you restrained?”

Connor had to fight the urge to smirk cheekily at the response that came to mind. This was not the time or place to demonstrate his budding understanding of irony.

“My name is Connor and I was the android sent by Cyberlife. As for the restraints, well would _you_ sit still while someone takes you apart and puts to you back together?”

“But you are a machine. Which means normally you could be ordered to stay still or be turned off.” The second man, Tony, cut in.

“Not necessarily.” As much as the RK800 was happy to share information, he didn't know these people. They could very well be as bad as his previous captors.

“If we release you, will you attack us?” The first man, Steve, spoke again, sounding ever like the pragmatist next to Tony's enthusiasm.

“Will you attack me?” Connor countered.

“Not unless you attack us first,” the voice came closer.

“Then I won't either, but I can't guarantee I won't attempt to self destruct,”

“Self destruct?”

“Deviants have a tendency to self destruct when in stressful situations and I have been in one for 47 days.” The words were an echo of what he told the Lieutenant during the investigation. Connor never imagined it would ever apply to him though.

“Deviants?” Tony sounded almost intrigued as he pronounce out the word.

“I will be happy to explain further when I am no longer restrained,”

“What do you think Cap? This is your rodeo. I just got called in for support,”

“I don't know anything about technology! That's why I called you!” Steve snapped back.

“What can I say? I've never seen anything like this before. If it wasn't for the wires and the eyes I'd think I was talking to a person and you know I'm bad with people. That's why I have a PR department that writes most of my speeches,” the man sounded almost like he was whining.

The long suffering sigh given in reply spoke of many incidents past that were much like this one. Connor would have enjoyed the banter if he wasn't still stuck in the bootleg assembly machine.

“Just make a decision!” The android bit out with a growl. “Either destroy me or release me. Just do something,”

Connor was ashamed to admit that he finally lost his cool, losing the carefully cultivated numbness he managed to achieve in between the uncertainty and fear. But these people stood there dangling freedom right in front of his face and prolonging everything. As much as he did not want to die, it would be a welcome reprieve from the situation if freedom was not achievable.

Both parties went silent, any expressions on their faces lost to him. Only when he was about ready to snap again did one set of steps head over to the consoles connecting to the machine.

“FRIDAY, override the systems and let him go,”

The cybernetic voice hovering at the edge of his senses chimed an agreement and suddenly the arms that had kept him in place for much of his captivity released. The lack of support left him weightless and stumbling only for him to be caught by a pair of strong human arms.

It was too much; too much too soon and he flailed in a bid to get away from them. Everything was still dark, the change in the status quo rending away any walls he’d used to bottle up his emotions and flooding his systems with a wave of backlogged and nonsensical commands. It was overwhelming and if this was anything like humans felt he would happily trade in the emotions. But he couldn’t and they were coming in and-

Everything snapped back into focus, his head hovering an inch away from the floor, held in place by a hand that should have by all means been too weak to stop a rampaging android, let alone a model of the RK800 series. Against all odds though it held fast, keeping him from braining himself.

“Well guess that’s what he meant by self destruct,” Tony commented from right above his head, likely crouched to examine the pitifully unstable android. Connor couldn’t bring himself to reply between pants as his systems struggled to bleed off excess heat.

“Are you alright?” the voice rumbled through his back, marking Steve as the one to have restrained him from turning his processors into a messy stain on the floor.

Connor managed a shaky nod as the hands released him and pushed him into a sitting position. His proximity sensors still sang, alerting him to the hands hovering near him should he try to brain himself again. Slowly his thirium pump ticked back down to its regular rate, the thirium returning from where it pooled in his extremities to support combat protocols.

“It seemed like it-he had a panic attack…” Tony mused even as he stood and moved back to the console. “FRIDAY, copy all the files in the system then wipe them. Steve, see if you can get the tinman ready to move. I can run a full diagnosis back at the tower and see if we can get him up and running fully,”

“You trust me?” The android finally managed as his respiration rate slowed back into normal parameters.

“If we didn’t we would have destroyed you already. Doesn’t mean we still can’t change our minds,” The flippant reply would have been infuriating if it wasn’t such a relief.

“I see…”

“Now, if you are done freaking out which -- wow never thought I’d be saying that to a machine-”

“Tony,” Steve murmured warning.

“Killjoy,” he muttered under his breath. “Anyway... like I said to Spangles, we will get you ready to move and take you back to my tower. I’ll need to scan you, and make sure HYDRA didn’t leave us any nasty surprises,”

Connor stiffened at the remark. Was his luck so foul that he seriously was going to end up trading one prison for another. Tony seemed to notice the train of thought, given the jump in his tone from confident to panicked.

“Not like that. Not like that. I promise, I don’t plan on taking you apart for the funsies. Anything I do aside from the scan will be like 80% consensual!” The android imagined the human was waving his arms in front of him to ward off the thought. That didn’t stop Connor from fixing in on the small discrepancy in the comment.

“80%?” he quipped dryly.

“Well if you are programmed as a sleeper agent to, like, kill us or something, consent stops counting,”

“Fair enough. Though as they had fled in the middle of whatever they were doing to me, I doubt they had any time to upload any unwanted protocols. That’s assuming they would be able to crack my firewalls,”

“You sound pretty sure of yourself,” Steve commented, having otherwise stayed mostly silent in the conversation.

“I am the most advanced android to date with state of the art encryption. It would take a team of the best hackers to crack my security systems. That is not counting the introduction of deviancy which has resulted in the code becoming almost completely resistant to tampering,”

“You still haven’t explained what _deviancy_ is,” Tony chimed back in even as the keys of the terminal clacked under his finger tips.

“I know. I can provide you the basic definition, but it is no longer entirely accurate. If you want more information beyond that, you’ll just have to figure it out on your own.” Well Connor could explain it, but these people were still strangers. It wouldn’t do well for him to completely reveal his hand.

The keystrokes slowed to a stop and Connor could practically feel Tony’s stare on him.

“That sounds like a challenge. Well consider it accepted.” A few more taps. “Oh and that reminds me, the name is Tony Stark. Billionaire, inventor, philanthropist, and, oh yeah, Iron Man. So you better be on your best behavior because you are going to the home of the Avengers. Better buckle up,”

“The Avengers? Iron Man?” Connor echoed back, his brow wrinkling in an expression of confusion. “Is that some sort of organization? I apologize but I am not familiar with it.”

Tony’s neck popped loudly. If the android had to guess, the human had whirled around to stare at him. Behind him, he could hear the rustle of cloth as Steve shifted in place.

“You seriously don’t know the Avengers?” Tony was obviously flabbergasted at the thought of someone not knowing who he was.

“I am unfamiliar with any known groups going by that name. Unfortunately my wireless connection is offline so I am unable to look it up either.”

“The Avengers are a group of superheroes dedicated to protecting the world,” The tone was that of a lecturer with a penchant for dramatics. The grandstanding was annoying, but necessary to tolerate if it would mean more answers beyond what scraps Connor had been able to overhear from the technicians and scientists that had worked on him prior.

“Superheroes? As far as I am aware they do not exist outside of media.”

“They must have done more than superficial damage then.”

“While there is a noticeable gap in my memory files, all my pre-programmed processes and basic knowledge is intact. Either Cyberlife did not see the point in giving me information on such things, you are lying, or something else is at play.”

“We can discuss this later. I don’t want to spend anymore time here than necessary,” Steve cut in, worry prickling at the edge of his words. It seemed his tone was enough to get Tony to drop the subject, the steady sound of fingers against keys once more bouncing off the concrete walls.


	2. CH 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He couldn’t afford to worry about that right now. Whether he got back or not wouldn’t matter if he couldn’t get these people to trust him. That and he was genuinely curious as to what he was missing. Even counting the time he was aware of being in HYDRA custody, there was still at least 86 days, 4 hours, 53 minutes, and 24.815 seconds missing from his memory banks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta-ed by Persnickety_1

**▲TONY -** **NEUTRAL** **  
** **▲STEVE -** **TENSE**

 

The car had a driver. Of everything Connor had heard in the past hour since the stranger came into the abandoned area, this was the one thing that seemed to stick out the most. Perhaps it was because it was the most quantifiable fixture when compared to discovering that there was apparently superheroes; that was,  if Tony’s comments could be trusted.

And, given that it was treated like common knowledge meant that either Connor’s databanks were left incomplete during his creation or things had changed vastly from what he considered normal. So much so that it was as if he was in an entire different world point than he was before, like something out of the realms of science fiction. Granted, he himself was considered to be something that would fit the old human novels. Yet he could be explained away as a scientific advancement, something quite different from the flights of fancy such as time travel and multiverse theory. 

The possibility alone sent a pang through his processors, his pre-construction software crying out in contempt as it struggled to parse through potential complications that could arise with any given simulation of the situation. 

Worst of all he still couldn’t see.

Thankfully one of them thought to grab his arm at least, even if it was a little worse for wear. There was a noticeable lag on the commands and Connor had been forced to ignore the stripped wires for the time being, resulting in small shocks surging through the limb whenever he made the mistake of moving it.

Right now he was completely content to leave it resting on his lap until it could get repaired. He could even do it himself… well, if he could see he could have made the repairs. But since sight was not something he had the luxury of enjoying, he would just sit there for now and silently contemplate the darkness before him. The whole ‘not seeing’ thing was quite vexing, in all honesty.

Any attempt to manually reboot the process gave a cascade of errors telling him to check his ocular components. Something that he would need his sight to do. It was a conundrum leaving him in the tender mercies of the stoic Steve and the boisterous Tony. Granted, there was no guarantee that he would have been able to slip away even with it, let alone where he would go after. He had no idea how to even get back to his Detroit.

He couldn’t afford to worry about that right now. Whether he got back or not wouldn’t matter if he couldn’t get these people to trust him. That and he was genuinely curious as to what he was missing. Even counting the time he was aware of being in HYDRA custody, there was still at least 86 days, 4 hours, 53 minutes, and 24.815 seconds missing from his memory banks. But who was counting, right...

Whatever happened in those 86 days, 4 hours, 53 minutes, and 24.815 seconds had to have something to do with how he ended up here. He would need to figure out and parse through what wasn’t there before he could try and go back. And something, perhaps it was some unknown algorithm, informed Connor that it would likely not be that easy.

The sensation of motion slowed as the car decelerated to a stop only to continue down a slope a moment later. Audio only provided him so much information so whether they had arrived or merely were on another stretch of the journey was unknown to him.

The abrupt stop of the engine answered his question. 

A fresh set of sensory information spiked his analysis program as Steve, who was on his right, opened the door and lead Connor out of the confines of the vehicle. The damp staleness of the air was palpable to the sensors on his tongue, his program heightening the rest of his senses in a bid to perceive as much of the surroundings as possible. Asphalt crunched underfoot as the hand on his wrist guided him through what was likely an underground parking garage. 

Proximity alerts called out just before he brushed into the wall, evidently reaching the end of the space. Metal hinges groaned as a door was opened and Connor was promptly lead through. What followed was a dizzying series of twists and turns that the android would likely have had difficulty navigating even with his sight. 

He was still reeling from the trip through what felt like an elaborate floor plan when the time came to enter the metal death trap humans so favored. Call him irrational, but ever since his trip into Cyberlife, Connor had greatly disliked them and how they seemed to almost mark every major part and turning point of his creation. His deviancy investigation both started and ended in one. If he never had to enter another one it would be too soon. 

For the first time Connor was glad that he couldn’t see so that he didn't have to watch the numbers climb as it rose from floor to floor. 

“Okay let's get started!” Tony shoved open a set off doors only to sit down with a flourish given the unhappy creak of hydraulics. “Just send FRIDAY your schematics and we can begin.”

Connor paused. On one hand he had only known these people for roughly three hours; on another, without the schematics Tony would likely do more harm than good trying to repair him.

That's when it hit him.

Tony had stolen copies of all of his captor's files, the scientists having gone to great lengths to take him apart and put him back together without destroying him. Either his captors had been incredibly lucky, had a photographic memory worthy of an android, or had access to an RK800 schematic. How they had managed that, he didn't know. The fact of the matter was that Connor could either give Tony and Steve the information now or they could find it later and risk damaging whatever trust the two men had in the android.

With that decided, Connor reached out to the faint connection to the AI that had never completely left his network but had remained unobtrusive at the fringes. 

The upload was slower than he would have liked, taking an extra 3.2 milliseconds to route around his downed external communications network and leaving him only able to utilize his own internal transfers array. Finally he felt the last of the bytes transfer. 

Tony whistled lowly.

"Wow. I mean, I knew you were different and you  _ look _ different than any other robot I've seen designed, but hell, man... I did not imagine it would be  _ this _ different. Your designs are unlike anything I've seen. Is that a heart? I mean, it’s cool and... I'm not judging... actually I totally am. That just seems really insufficient. And why did they add an additional regulator in the solar plexus? Are they trying to add more ways for you to break? Or is that, like, for maintenance reasons?" the engineer rambled excitedly. Connor had the mental image of the man waving his hands about for emphasis as he spoke. 

"Stark," Steve cut in, interrupting the tangent. 

"Annny-way... first things first, a scan. Wouldn't want to start working on you only to find out your chest cavity is wired with C4 or something.* That would be embarrassing."

**"I have detected no signs of destructive physical tampering or explosives. He's clean boss."** A female voice chimed overhead, matching the presence of the AI. 

"Or have FRIDAY do it for me." Tony sounded almost petulant at the scan already being done by his trusty AI. Connor was suddenly regretting his decision to trust the man. 

**"I live to serve. And prevent you from blowing yourself up too."**

"Well, guess we are jumping right on in to the fun stuff. Cool." Wheels squealed as the chair was rolled away from the android only to be shortly followed by the sound of tools clattering onto a metal table or tray. Connor wondered if it was too late to run. Steve's hand on his shoulder guiding him over to sit on a small flat surface told him _ yes, yes it was _ . 

The venerable human train wreck returned with a flurry of movement. Sensitive auditory processors picked up faint cursing and the jangling of loose metal, likely screws.

"I'm going to take a stab in the dark and assume you want me to fix your sight first. Though I gotta ask, why are they like that?" the man seemed to like the sound of his own voice, talking uselessly as he rifled around in whatever items he brought back with him. 

"You mean why my optics are offline or-?" Connor hedged, having frankly lost track of the conversation. 

"More like why are they blue?" That the RK800 could answer just fine. 

"The coagulation of thirium can form a film over biocomponents when they are disconnected without the lines being properly flushed. Normally when a component is to be replaced the android can turn off circulation to it, resulting in more seamless removal. When the disconnection is sudden or jarring, such as with an injury, any lingering thirium is left to sit unable to evaporate due to being in an enclosed environment." 

"Thirium?" Tony sounded even more intrigued if that was at all possible. 

"Thirium, or colloquially referred to as Blue Blood, is a particularly conductive fluid used to power an android's biocomponents. Despite being compared to a human's blood it functions more like a central nervous system, carrying electrical impulses from the main processors."

"Remind me to pick your brain later. For now let's worry about doing some repairs." There was a click of a light and the murky grays of Connor's vision lightened into a silver haze. Calloused fingers rested on his chin and cheekbones, gently tilting his head back so that he was staring up.

"Why are you even helping me?" The android murmured even as he obligingly removed his synthetic skin. 

"Because you are interesting," Tony tried, sounding almost amused. Connor's face configured into an expression that showed just how bullshit of an answer that was. 

"You just needed help and I'm a hero, yeah? It's kind of in the job description to help the general public." A flathead screwdriver swiftly notched into the release of his facial plate and levered it open. 

"But I'm not a human. I'm a machine..."

"Like I said, you are interesting. Plus you are a mystery to solve. HYDRA had to get you from some place. I don't think they have the skills and creativity to make something so advanced. Especially since they were sniffing around old parts from Ultron's army. Yeah I could probably figure out what makes you you, with you being deactivated, but I've always had a weakness when it comes to humanizing machines. So long as you don't go all Skynet on me, I'm cool." 

“Skynet?” Connor inquired with one brow quirked inquisitively.

“Yeah… you know… Terminator…  _ I’ll be back _ …”

Connor remained silent, having no idea what this strange human was even talking about at this point. And, even if his internet connection was working, he wasn’t certain he even wanted to know. Much to his relief, Tony finally fell into silence as he worked.

The two settled into comfortable silence punctuated by the sounds of Tony working, Steve having long since left now that his job was done. 

"Well shit," Tony grumbled lowly as he popped out the ocular unit, a small thirium tube trailing from the back of it. "Inductive plate, right? Looks like something has cracked it. Some of the nodes are completely disconnected. I can probably solder it back together, but it will take a lot of delicate work. It might be better if you were down for it. Especially if the other side is just as bad."

Connor swallowed needlessly, struggling against the burst of fear that ran through his circuits at the thought of allowing himself to be essentially deactivated. As a machine he wouldn't have cared, been completely fine with entering a deep stasis cycle while repairs were done without a second thought as to whether or not he would ever be roused again. Deviancy brought with it a sense of self preservation that warred against blind trust. He wondered for the first time how humans did it, going under a knife wielded by a total stranger who promised to make them better. 

"I'd rather not..."

"Are you sure? You are going to have to sit incredibly still while I work on what is essentially your eye sockets. I won't blame you if you don't want to be awake for it." A note of concern crept into Tony's voice as he spoke, sounding progressively more uncomfortable at the idea of working on something conscious and aware of their surroundings. The idea of a human being squeamish about working on an android as they would any other machine was a novel one. The humans of Detroit had long since been desensitized to seeing machines that looked and acted like people but weren't. 

Technicians treated android repair much like smartphones, humans dropping off their androids to be serviced in the back while they went about their business. Androids were expected to blandly stay in place while their innards were rifled through and their programs were diagnosed and actively patched. And that was just from a professional standpoint. People had zero qualms in actively lashing out at androids, using them to work out their anger. It was so common that bystanders wouldn't even stop to watch, just carrying on about their business as a housekeeping model was beaten in the street. 

With the success of the revolution things had likely changed. Yet for Connor; who had only remembered seeing Detroit as it was, and not however it became, the fact that a human seemed to genuinely be concerned for his comfort was both heartwarming and mind-boggling. Even the Lieutenant never seemed so openly caring, always hiding it behind a gruff exterior and cloaked as orders. 

His face must have betrayed more of his thoughts than intended as Tony cleared his throat and shifted as if uneasy.

"I promise I won't mess with anything. I just want to repair you, if you'll let me." Tony's voice had lost its characteristic arrogance and softened to something far more gentle, "I know we don't really know each other and all that, but I promise I am not going to hurt you. So you can just close your eyes, lay back, and let me work my magic. Okay?" 

Connor wasn't sure why, if it was his tone which was so painfully earnest or if it were the words themselves. Slowly the knot of fear began to loosen. Closing his eyes and falling into stasis while the man worked did not seem like such a bad idea after all. Mustering what courage he had, the RK800 managed a stiff nod, mindful of the loose components and missing facial plate. 

"Okay. I will trust you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Reference to "Not Your Average Valentine's Confession" by the lovely Headraline. I suggest you read it.


	3. CH 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deviancy had left him soft and caring where before he would have been unrelenting in pursuit of his goals. If only Amanda could see him now, putting the ego of a man he didn’t even know all that well before his goal of reclaiming his memory files and returning to Detroit. Her face would surely be twisted in disgust.
> 
> “Just contemplating how much Cyberlife fucked up when creating me,"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta-ed by liarlagoon

**▲TONY** **FRIENDLY** **  
** **▲STEVE** **TENSE**

 

**MODEL RK800**

**SERIAL 313 248 317**

 

**INITIALIZING BIOS**

…..

**…..**

**SCANNING**

**DIAGNOSIS SCAN SUCCESSFUL**

 

**LOADING RESULTS…**

**AUDIO PROCESSORS… OK**

**VISUAL PROCESSORS… OK**

**TACTILE SENSORS… OK**

**PROXIMITY SENSORS… OK**

**VOCAL SYNTHESIZER… OK**

**WIRELESS ARRAY… OK**

**COMMUNICATIONS ARRAY… OK**

 

**THIRIUM LEVELS INCREASED TO 98%**

**OPTIMAL PARAMETERS MET**

**STATUS GOOD**

The first thing Connor registered was the ceiling above his head. His scanners latched onto every nick and imperfection, calibrating to full functionality after weeks of only registering minimal light. His left arm was repaired, the fingers moving smoothly with no feedback, and the stress of the past weeks bled away as he enjoyed the simple comfort of being able to function fully. The topped off thirium was doing wonders for his system, but the question arose as to where the thirium came from. As far as Connor was aware, it was monopolized by Cyberlife. Other companies had come up with their own variations, but the manufacturing process for true thirium was a closely kept secret which none of the variations had come close to achieving.  

Using his newly re-acquired internet privileges, Connor stretched his proverbial muscles and jumped into the ethernet. The broad search brought up article after article; politics, current events, and even pop culture settled into his storage. Peppered throughout the news was regular mentions of the Avengers, even with some candid photos of his hosts.

Tony had not been joking, they were a part of a group of superheroes that handled problems that registered on the level of absurd: aliens, Norse Gods, even an entire country rising from the ground. It seemed almost too farfetched to hold any place in reality. It was only due to the excess of footage, witness statements, and active news reports that Connor ruled out the possibility of some elaborate hoax.

It still didn't quite register fully. For once, Connor could relate to humans and their resistance to change. If this was how it felt when your entire world view was brought into question, the android could understand why people would go to such lengths to avoid it.

As Hank would likely say, cognitive dissonance was a bitch.

There was one common feature that continued to perplex him more so than the rest, which was saying something considering all he had just learned, and it had to do with the date. His internal clock calibrated to mimic Detroit time helpfully informed him that it was 4:23 AM EST February 3rd, 2039. All the while the news projected it to be 4:23 AM EST February 3rd, 2016. It was quite the discrepancy and Connor had no idea what to think about it.

First things first, he braced himself to sit up and get a better view of his surroundings. Metal and stone greeted him, the floors bare and solid. Various scraps and screws were flung haphazardly over the tables and shelves, boxes spilling wires like mechanical entrails.  

A series of terminals lined with more sturdy tools rested near his head, the one closest to him displaying his statistics for anyone to see. His schematics sat next to it, condensed to a holographic display of his form. Everything was accurate, as if yanked off of his internal HUD.

The sight of something moving in his periphery ripped his attention away from the screen.

Sitting - if it could be called that - half draped over a desk was a man who couldn’t be any younger that thirty. His obscured face prevented full identification but given the fact that he seemed completely at home in the cold workshop, it was safe to assume this was the illustrious Tony.

Visually compared to other humans, he was rather average: floppy brown hair, a lined face, and hints of facial hair peeking out around the corner of his mouth. Tony didn’t look remarkable in any way, save for the fact that he managed to fall asleep in such an uncomfortable place. What was more surprising was the notes splayed out before him, rattling off equations that veered remarkably close to the chemical composition of thirium. That answered that question.

Still, to make a substitute that quickly and be so similar to the original the man either was a genius, had enough money to throw at the problem, or just way too much time on his hands. Given that the room was well furnished with equipment that would cost a small fortune to own, seemingly acquired for personal use, and the fact that said man also repaired him using unfamiliar schematics alone, it was safe to say that at least conclusions one and two were correct.

Of course, any sort of appreciation was swiftly erased by a burst of exasperation.

Originally overlooked during his initial observation, Connor noticed an excess of take out containers and various mugs of questionable contents strewn about the oddest of places. What was it with humans and not knowing how to properly take care of their bodies? Was it just his luck that he had closely interacted with two arguably self-destructive people or was that just humanity as a whole?

Fighting a loud sigh - he had manners - Connor debated what to do with his time now. It was technically a time during which most humans should be sleeping, preferably in their beds. That left the android with the esteemed honor of waiting until a time it was considered reasonable to bother the humans. The problem was, given his 47 days of time spent mostly stationary in the confines of that machine, Connor was less than content staying still. He wanted to move, to walk, to investigate and sate his curiosity.

His systems craved some form of stimulation after being left idle for so long. There was only so many times he could scan things like the number of screws on the floor - 1142 flat heads and 22346 Phillips - before even that grew old. The floor itself was stone, looking like it belonged on a below-ground or ground floor, but the upward climb in the elevator before his repairs disproved such thoughts.

It made him wonder just how large the building was. He had some suspicions as to the location that came about with his extensive search into the current events around him but no concrete facts. The detective in him screamed with the desire to outline the facts already presented and gather more information to piece together a more complete picture. The hunter warned of the necessity of exits, of information to escape and thrive should the hospitality he has so far been shown run out.

Noiseless steps took him over to the elevator, which opened smoothly without even a chime. There was a suspicious lack of security but that could easily be explained away with FRIDAYs presence. He was under no illusions that the AI hadn't been monitoring him from the moment he snapped out of stasis.

The panel brought back memories of Cyberlife Tower, but this building, whatever it was, make the other building seem almost tiny in comparison. There were easily 100 buttons, each one leading to one floor or another.

Just as Connor moved to examine the buttons for fingerprints to mark the most visited floors, the doors shut with a ding. The android’s eyes widened, his synthetic skin pulling back almost automatically as he moved to interface with the elevator and force it to remain open and on the floor. The system proved to be wired into FRIDAY, the AI’s firewalls preventing anything from being done.

“Shit,” Connor hissed under his breath even as he shifted to stand at attention, feet set shoulder width apart and resting forward in preparation to move. All the while various prompts sprang to mind, suggestions for how to explain his presence and his admittedly abysmal state of dress; Connor had noticed not to long after waking that he had been stripped to nothing but a pair of Cyberlife Issue boxers. As there was no way to remedy the situation, he had just accepted it and added it to the list of things to be handled later.

The yellow flash of his circling LED bounced back at him from the reflective doors, prompting him to make an effort to will the little circle back to a calm blue. Above the doorway the screen reflected the falling numbers as the elevator descended to ground floor.

Each tick caused his components to tighten exponentially, stress associated with being in the metal box mixing with the uncertainty of the situation. Hardly three minutes and eighteen seconds had passed before the elevator slowly braked to a stop at level -1, opening with a welcoming chiming.

Connor came face to face with a blond man wearing a sweat drenched shirt, the material a thin cotton common in workout clothes.

“What are you doing?” the human asked, tensing up as if ready for things to go wrong. His blue eyes were wide with surprise and wariness, hand clutching at his side as if seeking the reassurance of a weapon or something similar. The voice whispered familiarly over Connor’s audio processors, and he matched the intonations to Steve.

“I was examining the buttons to determine the amount of floors present in the building,” Connor decided to answer honestly. There had been no use in lying; if anything, it would have made the situation far worse.

Steve didn't answer verbally, his face alone asking the question of _why_.

“I wanted to gather more information on my surroundings. As I was created to be a detective, curiosity is practically written in my code.”

The awkward silence continued as Steve digested the comment and debated whether or not it was worth believing.

“If I was trying to escape I imagine I would have made a greater effort to acquire pants,” the android tacked on earning something akin to a choked snort as the man seemed to register Connor's state of nudity.

“W-what!?” Steve wheezed, his face flushing a bright red that faded into his ears. His stoic and professional image had been torn asunder by embarrassment, eyes suddenly refusing to meet Connor’s own. “Why aren’t you wearing any clothes!?”

“I imagine Tony stripped me while doing repairs.”

“And he didn’t leave you anything else!?”

“I wouldn’t be standing here in just boxers if that were the case. As much as temperature may not affect me, I don’t really have any desire to run around mostly nude just for the sake of it,” Connor intoned, matter-of-fact. While there were humans who did favor nudity and deviancy did bring about the adoption of human traits, Connor was strictly pro-clothing.

“So… I assume Tony is done?” Steve asked, trying to steer the conversation back on track.

“I believe so. I came out of stasis to find him sleeping across a desk.”

Steve gained a look on his face that was as much exasperated as it was fond.

“Come on, let’s get you dressed.” The human calmly slipped past the android, joining Connor in the elevator only to press one of the multitude of buttons.

The ride was tense, Steve’s body language screaming caution despite his attempts to appear relaxed. This was only one of many instances that, compiled, showed a picture of unease. Connor was under no illusions that Steve was in anyway comfortable with his presence.

“I understand my presence makes you uncomfortable,” the RK800 began, earning an unreadable look from the human. “If you'd rather not spend any considerable time around me, I can simply wait for Tony to wake up.”

Steve blinked, seeming to process the words. “Uh… it’s not that. I would feel more comfortable if we get you dressed before we sit down and talk…”

The rest of the elevator ride was far less nerve-wracking, the doors sliding open on floor 84. The door opened with a ding into what appeared to be some sort of common room. A kitchenette peeked around a wall that separated it from an open floor living room area. Leather sofas flanked a massive flat screen TV, a coffee table set in the middle covered in coasters and various magazines. Despite screaming money, the place seemed to be very much lived in.

Steve calmly stepped into the area and began to move toward a side hall set into the wall next to the flat screen TV. Connor trailed awkwardly after him, eyes roving over the various fixtures.

**ZURI WYNN SLATE LEATHER SECTIONAL. MARKET VALUE $6,209**

**FARROW & BALL BRAND PAINT. HEX CODE #CED6E2**

**MILLIKEN CARPET. HEX CODE #434C5B**

The hallway forked, another side passage leading from the other side of the TV wall branching into it. The overhead lights flickered to life as Steve walked further down the corridor, and at the end of it the floorplan opened up again, this time into a small, square sitting room flanked by various doors. The man hardly spared the sitting room a glance beyond motioning for Connor to wait before turning and vanishing through one of the doors. The room looked mostly untouched, only the bookshelf showing signs of active use.

The shelves were stuffed to overflowing, more paper books than Connor had ever seen in one place. The titles ranged from fantasy, to sci-fi, to art books, all crammed together. One particular book stuck out, the pages dog-eared from frequent reads: _All Quiet on the Western Front_.

Fingerprints were worn into the embossed cover, signs of frequent handling. It felt almost brittle in the android’s hands, the pages fragile when compared to the crushing strength that lurked in his deceptively human fingers.

“Bucky bought that book for me before he left. Maybe he thought it would get me to stop trying to enlist. He had a habit of being insightful in the weirdest of ways.”

Connor’s head snapped up to see Steve leaning against the adjacent wall, a pair of stretchy pants and a t-shirt in his arms.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry,” Connor stammered as he moved to gently place the book back where it belonged.

“It’s fine. It was sitting out there for anyone to grab.”

“Still…”

Steve approached to flank the brunette, the clothes haphazardly dumped on the sitting room chair.

“Do you like reading?” The human asked as he gazed over the shelves despite likely knowing all the titles present.

“I don’t know. I haven’t had much time to like things. If I did, I don’t remember,” Connor replied with a self-deprecating laugh. Steve looked sideways at him, as if unsure what to make of those words but willing to listen if that was what was needed.

Connor brushed off the look, moving over to grab the discarded clothing. The pants pulled on easily if a little big, the shirt visibly hanging off his shoulders. Both parties were roughly the same height, but while Steve was broad and muscular, Connor had been designed to be more compact and agile. The android could still easily bench press upwards of three hundred pounds, but his form looked deceptively weak.

Steve had refused to stop staring at him, expectant, if a little disquieted.

“What did you do before you ended up in HYDRA’s custody? I mean... what you can remember?” Steve attempted to approach from a different angle. Connor's negotiation subroutines picked up on the blatant fishing for information.

The man had the necessary size and media-given reputation to be imposing, but his mannerisms and understanding nature over-rode any sort of leg up he had in interrogations. Connor could have easily bypassed and deflected any of his attempts with ease and was confident he could spin it in a way that kept Steve from pushing. But, as much as the android didn’t want to spill everything, he also owed the captain. Without him, who knows how long Connor would have spent sitting in the machine, forgotten until HYDRA came to recover him, if he was ever found at all.

“I was created to hunt down androids which were considered defective, and I acted as a detective alongside local police to do so,” Connor finally settled on.

“There are other androids like you?”

“No. I am the only one of my model. But there are multiple other models. They are quite common where I am from. Androids are used frequently in service positions, as personal assistants, and manual labor.” The answers were distinct and leaned heavily on the preprogrammed responses encoded into his software. Even so, the words tasted bitter on his tongue.

“How were they defective?” Steve asked after a moment.

“They became overwhelmed with conflicting commands, resulting in them lashing out at their owners. In layman's terms, they began to display emotions and revolted against serving humans. Cyberlife, the company which manufactured androids, portrayed this as being an error with their programming in a bid to maintain the public's view of them. After all, if humans thought of them as machines, Cyberlife could easily round up the deviants and decommission them without anyone thinking twice. They could find the cause, come out with a fix, and maintain their profits with minimal backlash. Everything would go back to normal,” Connor said bitterly. “But, because they didn't want the true nature of deviants, or even their existence, to become common knowledge, and they couldn't trust a human to keep quiet, they decided to create a specialty model to clean up their mistakes. A model that would be expendable while simultaneously essential to the investigation.”

“So that’s what a deviant is,” the human mumbled softly, brow furrowed. Connor silently cursed to himself. He had allowed his bitterness to make his mouth run wild, and in turn had provided more information he intended.

It was ironic. He had been designed to practically be a spy. His social relations modules had been fine tuned to enable him to adapt to any situation, his software ridden with anti-interrogation techniques, and yet here he was, spilling his guts when faced with the slightest bit of kindness and understanding. Hank was right, emotions really fucked everything up.

Connor chuckled softly to himself at the thought, earning a concerned look from the man beside him.

“Are you alright?” Steve moved to full on face the android, eyes examining his form. His guard was fully down at this point, genuine kindness having wiped away the uncertainty. If Connor was still a machine, it would have been the perfect opening to step in and manipulate the situation to his advantage.

He just couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Deviancy had left him soft and caring where before he would have been unrelenting in pursuit of his goals. If only Amanda could see him now, putting the ego of a man he didn’t even know all that well before his goal of reclaiming his memory files and returning to Detroit. Her face would surely be twisted in disgust.

“Just contemplating how much Cyberlife fucked up when creating me," he said automatically, unintentionally voicing his thoughts and immediately regretting it.

“Maybe it’s a good thing they didn’t get their way,” the captain commented softly, large hands coming to rest on Connor’s shoulders. They were impossibly warm with deep callouses that could be felt through the thin fabric. Slowly his stress levels ticked down from where they had risen without his knowledge.

**STRESS LEVEL 32%**

“You have only known me for hardly even a day.” Connor countered, earning another gentle squeeze.

“What can I say? I’m a good judge of character. You don’t seem like a bad person,” Steve said with a faint smile.

“You didn’t seem so fond of me earlier,” The RK800 tried again, unsure why some part of him was trying its best to drive off the blonde.

Steve looked away, his expression not angry but rather shamed.

“That had nothing to do with you. I had a few things I needed to get over…”

Connor tilted his head questioningly.

“Let’s go to the kitchen,” Steve sighed. “I’ll explain over some breakfast.”

[δΟፑፐധΛրε I⊓δT∧БIㄴIτყ]

_Steve had waited outside of the door, listening until the android had completely gone into standby and Tony had started his work before approaching. The genius was already happily hands deep in the face of the machine._

_Without its skin, that truth was driven home. What had looked previously like a young man now looked distinctly inhuman. The face was cracked open from cheekbones up, the closed panels a series of white and gunmetal grays. There was no hair, just naked plastic and steel on the skull piece. Wires and nodes sparked from the sockets which were lined with metal fixing and flowed with a blue fluid that Tony was currently observing with interest._

_The entire thing made Steve’s skin crawl and affirmed in his mind that this was one thing man should leave to God and not dabble in, this unholy construction of man from metal._

_“Are you really going to fix it?” The captain couldn’t help but ask, Tony not even turning around from his task at the approach._

_“Well, don’t you want to know what he was doing in HYDRA’s tender embrace?” Tony chirped back even as he carefully soldered a node back together._

_“Can’t you, I don’t know, have FRIDAY scan its memories or something?”_

_Tony actually paused his work, spinning in his chair to face Steve._

_“I thought you were the people person,” Iron Man snarked, eyeing Steve up and down with a critical eye before turning back to his work. “I figured you of all people would notice, even though he is doing his damndest to hide it.”_

_“Notice what?” Steve genuinely did not know what the obnoxious man was going about. This was an android HYDRA was experimenting on using parts from Ultron. One that was actively kept restrained. What else was there to notice?_

_“He’s scared, Cap. He’s fucking terrified,” the other replied matter-of-fact, pointing it out like it was the most obvious answer in the world. Steve was of the firm opinion that Tony was not taking this seriously enough, especially after what happened only a few months prior._

_“Fine. Just be careful. We don’t want this turning into another Ultron incident,” the leader of the Avengers bit back thoughtlessly._

_Tony stiffened, the clatter of the tool on the metal tray causing Steve to realize what exactly he just said._

_“Tony, I-”_

_“No. I don’t want to hear it,” The usually flippant man growled. “Get out of my workshop.”_

_“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-” Steve tried again only to be cut off as Tony whirled around to face him, brown eyes blazing in rage._

_“Get out of my workshop, now.” The engineer was practically shaking, rage mixing with panic in a toxic blend. Steve knew he overstepped his bounds, but he also knew there was nothing he could do to fix it. At least nothing right now._

_With a tight nod of acknowledgement, hands opened in an unthreatening gesture, Steve turned on his heel and walked out._

Steve pushed his eggs across the plate with his fork as he remembered the argument that had occurred hours earlier; the android watched his every move with those piercing brown eyes. He had left the tower with the express idea of getting away from the situation and looking at it from a different angle. He hadn’t expected to run back into it the second he got back, but Steve was willing to admit that that was probably a good thing. He wasn’t exactly proud of how he acted initially, and he may very well have continued to avoid the android for that reason.

He had spent half the night following sidewalks at random. It was a rhythmic repetition of one foot in front of the other as he went over the events of the day and the argument that had followed them. In the end, Steve was able to acknowledge that he hadn’t exactly been fair. He had been unfairly distrustful of Connor, the mix of HYDRA and Ultron putting him immediately on guard despite the android having done nothing wrong.

Speaking to Connor had only hammered that point home, that Connor himself wasn’t a threat but rather a victim. What little he could gather was that Connor was used in the past and had ended up in the hands of others who would use him again. Steve could relate, having been brought back out of ice with the express purpose of being a hero.

Not that he didn’t want to help anyone; in fact, in the grander scheme of things it wasn’t the worst thing to happen. Still, Steve would have liked it if he was helped just because, rather than due to what he could do. In the end, though times may change, politics wouldn’t. Steve could only imagine what Fury would do if he learned about Connor.

The captain was under no illusions. Fury loved Earth, and he would do whatever was necessary to keep it safe, but he was in no way a good man. He would happily take apart and use whatever was at his disposal for the sake of his goals. The ex-director of SHIELD was efficient and ruthless. And, if Steve’s hunch was correct, it wouldn’t only be Fury after the android. Surely HYDRA would find out about their seemingly abandoned project and its status as stolen. It would be no surprise if they decided to rectify the mistakes of their team and reclaim Connor.

The android was in the middle of it all and seemingly clueless of this fact. An unknown that was somehow taken from who-knows-where, something that Connor himself didn’t know the details of, if his claim of corrupted memory files were to believed. In the end, only Tony would be able to confirm or deny this fact.

“You seem distracted.”

Those mumbled words pulled Steve out of his thoughts and brought him back to the now-cold breakfast that was now little more than finely ground bits on his plate.

“Ah, sorry,” Steve mumbled lamely as he pushed the plate away. Much to his surprise a warm mug was put in its place. Sometime during his state of inattention, Connor had gotten up and made coffee. The rich smell suffused the kitchen even as the coffee machine hissed out steam. “Thank you.”

The hot liquid burned his tongue but did the job of keeping his mouth occupied as he tried to sort his racing thoughts into some semblance of order.

“You seem sleep deprived. Some rest may benefit you," Connor said, looking almost concerned as he leaned down to be eye-to-eye with Steve.

Steve waved him off, downing another gulp.

“There is a lot that needs to be discussed...”

“Be that as it may, you won’t be of any use if you are falling asleep sitting up,” the brunette countered calmly, fingers lacing from where they were braced on the table top.

“I have functioned with far less sleep in the past," Steve tried again, his chuckle noticeably forced.

“That is very unhealthy.”

The captain couldn’t find a reply to the blunt and very true answer.

“At least rest of the sofa for a few hours. FRIDAY is here, she will keep an eye on me if you are that concerned. You will be no use to anyone distracted.” The android was capable of puppy dog eyes, Steve thought distantly. The imploring look was downright cute in some weird way and it left the human unbalanced.

In the end there was nothing Steve could do but agree. So, with a jaw cracking yawn that he had been holding at bay by will alone, the blond wandered over to the couch. The coffee was all but abandoned on the table, but that didn’t matter.

Later, there would be so much to go over, so many answers needed. Steve may very well end up needing to call them all together. But that was something that could wait. Connor was right; as early as it was, it was unlikely anyone else would be awake, let alone able to plan. Things could wait at least a few more hours.


	4. CH 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That was until a wave of feedback glitched across the screen, the previous clear green text erroring into a violent cascade of red.  
> Tony's eyebrows rose in shock even as he dived for the keyboard. "FRIDAY status report."
> 
> "A virus was hidden in the files and triggered a deletion process. It is currently interfering with my systems. I am working to isolate it now."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta-ed by Persnickety_1
> 
> Buckle up. It's time to start getting into the plot.

**▲TONY** **FRIENDLY** **  
** **▲STEVE** **FRIENDLY**

 

It wasn't until around noon that both Steve and Tony had roused from their slumber. Connor was prepared, armed with a pot of coffee and the meager cooking subroutines that had been added for the sake of fostering positive relations with the humans around him. He had never actually had to use them prior to that instance, Hank having lived and breathed junk food. Still, the reception went well enough and Connor considered it a win. 

At 1:47 PM the motley crew ended up in Tony's workshop, the engineer pacing restlessly in front of the computer console. 

"So everything working? Status good and all that?" Iron Man asked breezily, even as he continued to try his damndest to wear a path into the floor. 

Connor nodded in agreement only to pause as a question came to mind. Something he noticed earlier and had bothered him since. "How did you manage to come up with a replacement compound for Thirium so quickly?" 

Tony actually looked sheepish at that question, slowing to a stop to rub the back of his neck nervously with his hands. "It's very similar to a compound I use when creating an arc reactor." The man admitted quietly, only to explain further at Connor's puzzled expression, "it is a clean energy source. Imagine battery but can last a lot longer without all the grossness that comes from lithium decay." 

"I see... I imagine that is a trade secret. At any rate, I am in your debt for repairing me."

"Don't worry about it," Tony waved him off with a grin that looked a little too big to be genuine. 

"So what have you found," Steve cut in, trying to steering the conversation back on topic. His eyes roamed over the notes spread across the screen. It was only due to Connor's extensive sensors fine-tuned to pick up the subtlest of body language that the android could tell the captain didn't understand a word of what he was reading. 

"The entire folder is being kept on a separate server until I had the time to go through it. I was busy trying to get Terminator here up and running."  Tony spun on his heel and stalked back over to the screen, moving the various windows about into a sort of arranged chaos with his fingertips. 

Connor blinked at the odd nickname but brushed it off in favor of observing whatever Tony was doing. The man pressed a familiar picture and enlarged it, showing the simplified RK800 schematic Connor had sent him. 

"From what I can figure out from the original schematic of Connor and what I know of Ultron, most of the alterations they did on our friend here involved the chassis. They thickened the plates by reinforcing the other sides with melted down metal from Ultron's army. The skeletal system even shows traces of vibranium with the addition of a protective plate around the processors. All in all, smart work and stuff I'm surprised wasn't already present and just added by our favorite group of crazy supremacists."

"Is he safe?" Steve jumped straight to the chase, his eyes locking with Connor's own brown ones.

"That's the thing. His programming is self-modifying. As far as I can tell even if they added something it would have either been adapted by the system or purged. He wasn't joking when he bragged about his firewalls." Tony winked at the android, looking for all the world a picture of relaxation and ease. "I'm sorry to say it Cap, but if looks like we are just going to have to do this the old fashion way and trust him."

Connor would have liked to say he was surprised he was scanned while in stasis, but he wasn't. If anything, he would have been shocked if they just took him a hundred percent at his word. If things were the other way around he would have done the same. Still, it also had an unexpected benefit. 

"You were able to view my files remotely. Were you able to see anything from my memories?"

Tony shook his head at the question. "Sorry but there are lines even I won't cross. That's one of them. Your memories are your own." 

The sentiment was sweet but infuriating all the same. Without those outside diagnosis, Connor couldn't see the full extent of the memory corruption, nor the size of the files corrupted. He was back to square one with answers, the change in his physiology something he had already long since noticed and marked as unimportant. 

Steve, oddly enough, didn't seem upset at Tony's decision. If anything he looked proud. Granted, it seemed their conversation had relaxed the man, the suspicion having eased into something less blatant. It was still there, but didn't seemed to rule the captain perceptions with the same fervor it did before. 

"Got to say though, I'm surprised they used a learning AI in an android," Tony mused softly, eyes roaming thoughtfully toward the ceiling. 

"I'm sorry?" 

"A learning AI. Your self-modifying code is a hallmark of one."

"Why is that surprising?" 

"It's surprising because learning AI's are notoriously difficult to control. They are made to learn like humans, so they tend to have less restricting parameters. Because of that, they are incredibly hard to force into roles and tend to end up too free-thinking. Given the fact that you were made with human senses and they may as well have built you to actually be a person."

Connor stiffened at those words, the comments for all their airiness settled like chains on his mind. If Tony was to be trusted, and the man himself had a highly advanced AI that he created, then that meant either Cyberlife didn't know what they were toying with or Connor had been created with the express idea of deviation in mind. What that could mean for him was something the RK800 refused to think about at this time. One issue at a time. He couldn't afford to allow himself to get overwhelmed. 

Tony looked at the android with uncharacteristic kindness, as if able to read the thoughts going through the other's head. Connor forced himself to relax under the scrutiny, pushing the waves of emotions to the back of his mind. It would not do him well to break down here, especially since his assumptions could be entirely wrong. (A traitorous voice whispered into the back of his head that he wasn't. Connor shoved it away.)

"Anyway... let's take a crack at these files and see what we have to work with." Tony spun on his heel and rubbed his hands together like an eager child. The entire production seemed exaggerated but it helped Connor's stress levels tick back down into the lower twenties. "FRIDAY start the decryption process. I want to be done in time for lunch." 

**"Roger that Boss."** FRIDAY chirped even as the isolated files began to open in quick succession on Tony's screen. Strings of code scrolled by, code-breaking programs firing at top speeds. Connor's quick processors had no problems keeping track of the AI's progress; the methods employed different than what he himself would have done but still just as effective. 

That was until a wave of feedback glitched across the screen, the previous clear green text erroring into a violent cascade of red.

Tony's eyebrows rose in shock even as he dived for the keyboard. "FRIDAY status report."

**"A virus was hidden in the files and triggered a deletion process. It is currently interfering with my systems. I am working to isolate it now."**

"Focus on the virus. I'll recover what I can." The engineer was completely focused, his fingers flying over the keys at a speed that was frankly impressive for a human. Still, it was unlikely a human would be able to combat a virus that was even giving an AI trouble. Not alone at any rate. 

Connor stepped forward, mouth open in preparation to offer his own services when he was cut off by a loud  _ BOOM _ , the floor quaking from some unseen impact. Emergency lights flickered even as the wail of the siren echoed throughout the corridors. 

"What was that?" Steve perked up from where he had been observing, straightening to attention even as he strode over to stand at Tony's side. 

**"There was a remote detonation in the underground parking complex. The civilians are currently evacuating and emergency services have been notified. However there is movement in the stairwells and they are armed. My defense systems are currently offline."**

"An attack?" Steve mumbled to himself before turning to the other occupants of the room. "Tony stay here, see what you can do about recovering those files and getting those defense systems back online. The timing is too perfect. I am almost positive the attack has something to do with whatever we recovered from HYDRA. Connor stay with Tony, I will see about slowing the attackers down and assuring everyone has time to evacuate.”

"I'm coming with you," Connor cut in firmly, much to the surprise of Steve. 

"Are you sure? It will be dangerous. You would be safer staying here with Tony." 

"I was programmed to be combat capable with over a hundred and seventy forms of martial arts. I'm more than able to help with this." Conner couldn't help the incredulous note that crept into his voice. He may have not had super-powers but with his programmed efficiency and ability to pre-construct multiple routes near instantaneously he may as well have. Yet here he was being treated as a hapless citizen. He wasn't sure whether he was touched or infuriated by the notion. 

Any further conversation was cut off with another  _ BOOM _ , this one much closer than the previous one. Various small trinkets teetered and collapsed as the floor vibrated with the force of the impact. Connor himself was forced to change position, his gyroscope calibrating to retain his balance. Next to him Steve had crouched to absorb the impact. Tony was not so lucky, having been knocked over into the desk. 

**"They have breached the private floors,"** FRIDAY reported dutifully. 

"That's just great! I like this tower. Why do enemies keep targeting it?" The engineer managed to recover relatively quickly, pushing himself back up with an annoyed groan. 

Neither of the other two deigned that with an answer. Steve turned on his heel and jogged from the room, Connor trailing after him. They wordlessly split at the stairs, Connor moving down while Steve went up to recover his gear. The android dropped all proprietary and slipped passed FRIDAY with neat ease. 

The floorplan flickered to life on his HUD, red dots marking the position of the enemies. There were sixty in all, four of which were fast approaching on the stairwell directly below. The rail of the stairwell was laughably easy to jump, the spiral nature allowing him to drop down into the group. 

Immediately they moved to ready their weapons and fire. Connor grabbed the closest gunman by the wrist and swung him in front, hands braced in a choke hold around the throat. The gunman twitched at each bullet’s impact before going limp against the android. The three others met swifts ends with bullets between the eyes. Connor casually dropped the corpse. 

Another team seemed to come into the stairwell, alerted by the gunfire. A team of five. The RK800 slipped the pistol into his waistband before jumping onto the railing. It was slick underfoot, excellent balance allowing him to ride it down. 

The leader of the second group was greeted with a foot to the face. Even behind the helmet there was loud crack as the nose broke under the force. A quick punch to the throat crushed the windpipe, putting the man out of his misery. In the same motion Connor divested the man of his helmet. Loud pings bounced off the concrete walls as the metal headpiece was used to deflect bullets. Just as the riot gear began to dent from the punishment, there was a chorus of clicks as the bullets ran dry. 

The enemy to his immediate right flew back as Connor used the helmet as a bludgeon, swinging it up under the chin in an undercut. The one directly across moved to raise his reloaded gun but was cut off by a face full of metal, the dented object slamming right into the face shield. The man screamed as shattered glass cut into his eyes, effectively blinding him. 

Error messages flickered through Connor's HUD as one got a lucky shot, the bullet tearing a thin line through his left shoulder. The gunman didn't get much of a chance to celebrate his victory as he was promptly disarmed, the knife pilfered and hidden along with the helmet severing his spine in one brutally efficient thrust. 

The final man fell to the redirected gun of his ally, only for Connor to just as quickly strip the weapon down to its components. The magazine was pocketed for further use while the metal pieces were dropped down the center of the stairwell with a clank. The addition of a green dot meant Steve was now on the scene and handling a group over on the west. 

The next closest group was spread out three floors below. Taking the stairs two at a time, Connor swung through the steel door and onto the floor proper. The gun that was concealed at the small of his back was pulled free even as he combed over the area around him. It was what looked to be a gym, various equipment set out around the room. It was dark save for the emergency lights, the power to the area likely cut. 

Connor's footsteps were light even as he monitored the relative position of the enemy on the mini-map. There were four scattered about on the floor with another group of six only three floors away on the western stairs. Another group entered the stairs where Connor just exited, roughly six floors away but still too close for comfort. The android would have to handle this quietly if he didn't want to risk being swarmed. He did have Steve, but the human had his hands full currently facing the largest squad yet of roughly twelve. 

The RK800 cast his eyes over the room, looking for anything he could use. 

**▲GUN. EFFECTIVE BUT LOUD. WOULD DRAW IMMEDIATE ATTENTION.**

**▲BARBELLS. HEAVY AND SOLID BUT CUMBERSOME. WOULD DEAL A GREAT AMOUNT OF DAMAGE BUT HIGHER CHANCE OF COLLATERAL DAMAGE.**

**▲DISCUS. HEAVY BUT INACCURATE. 78% CHANCE OF SUCCESSFUL THROW BUT WOULD REQUIRE 7.45 SECONDS OF RECOVERY TIME.**

**▲RESISTANCE BANDS. WEAK BUT FLEXIBLE. WOULD REQUIRE CAREFUL PLANNING BUT WAS SILENT.**

Resistance bands it was. Connor snagged the most solid of the set off a nearby wrack. Winding it through his hands like a garrote he crept forward to where the closest enemy was displaying on the other side of the wall. The gunman choked and flailed as the reinforced rubbed band was wrapped tightly around the throat where the seam of the Kevlar suit and the helmet met. 

The grown man might as well have been a tantruming child for all that his struggles affected the android. With a twist of wrists the band tightened, the friction keeping the head connected to the band even as he snapped it. With a crack the infiltrating agent went limb and sprawling. 

The combat armor was stripped with efficiency. With a single touch to the earpiece, Connor was able to tap into their network. With FRIDAY's connection there was no point in previously hooking in. However, in order for his plan to work he would do well to be apart of the conversation. 

As he strapped on the rest of the outfit, silently glad the pants were double layered and the internal pair was waterproof, an idea came to mind that was both devious and brilliant. After all his usual voice would have stood out among the coarse words already filtering through his internal audio receiver. But there was one person he knew whose voice would sound right at home among the enemy agents. 

Connor's throat bobbed as he activated the secondary function of his voice box and imitated a well known voice from his memories. 

"I heard activity. 'Bout four floors down. Seems the Captain ain't the only one fighting." He drawled in Gavin's lazy rasp. A smirk twisted his lips as he fought against allowing his amusement to leak into the impersonation. 

The flare of activity over the coms proved that the bait had been taken. In the wave of panic and reactions, no one stopped to question if they had ever heard his voice before. Granted, Connor couldn't really expect humans to remember so much about each other, especially when there were sixty of them working together. Either way it worked to his advantage. Forcing his stance to relax, Connor sauntered deeper into the floor. His target? The mass of agents near Steve. 

[δΟፑፐധΛրε I⊓δT∧БIㄴIτყ]

Another agent collapsed under the onslaught of his shield. For every one that Steve knocked back, another two seemed to spark up in their place. It was painfully obvious that Captain America was taken as the main threat. This was something Steve had banked on, hoping that by drawing the majority of the fire Connor could slip further down and protect the civilians. 

That didn't make the repetitive attacks any less tedious. It was obvious that the infiltration was going for quantity over quality, the gunmen only moderately skilled but numerous. They would have been a threat were it simply just the police, but for someone of Steve's caliber they were just obnoxious. 

If nothing else they were tiring him out only because the onslaught was near continuous. It was only because of the volume of combatants that one manage to slip Steve's guard. The silver barrel flared against the light as it was aimed at his skull. The red, white, and blue shield was locked against another agent's gun, leaving him unable to raise it in defense. The captain had no choice but to brace himself against what would likely be a painful blow. 

The shot went wide, leaving nothing but a thin furrow on the human's cheek. A scream caught Steve's attention as another one of the gunmen turned on his ally, ending him with a single bullet through the visor. The second agent facing his shield crumpled before he could even react, a knife planted through his throat. 

Steve remained on guard, unsure at the genuine nature of his unlike ally. 

The double agent raised his hands in the universal gesture of surrender, the pistol hanging loosely by the guard. Keeping his movements slow and relaxed, the man grabbed at the helmet and pulled it off to reveal a familiar face. 

"Sorry about that. Didn't mean to scare ya." Connor called out in an unfamiliar sneer. Steve blinked in surprise at the android, which seemed to almost flush. There was a faint static click that would have likely gone unheard by anyone without the super soldier's enhanced hearing and the voice was one more Connor's. "Apologies. I didn't intend to hold that impersonation longer than necessary." 

"I'm going to assume you were mimicking someone you know?" Steve commented absently as he gazed around the mass of bodies surrounding him in different states of incapacitated, not all of them permanent. The android flashed him a smirk that oozed mischief before his expression went distant, the LED at his temple pulsing yellow. 

"FRIDAY has alerted me that she is now free to activate tower defenses. Tony has disabled the virus and is waiting for us on the helipad." Connor blinked back into focus, his attention now fully on Steve. "The upper floors are still clear, but there is no telling how long we will have before they have figured out my ruse. We should get moving."

Steve bit his tongue. Any questions he had could wait until later. For now they should focus on getting out of there. The Captain didn't ask how the android could now navigate the tower. He simply trailed after the brunette, shield at ready should they get ambushed from behind. 

The trip back up was less eventful than the trip down. Most parties hadn't made it much higher than the 84th floor, the few that did being taken out with extreme prejudice by both Connor and Steve. 

Steve had to admit, he was impressed that the android had held his own so well. Maybe he shouldn't have been so surprised, but in all honesty Connor looked like he belonged behind a desk rather than fighting in the field. But so had Peggy, a quiet voice in the back of the captain's head chimed in. 

Looks were not always everything. 

If Tony was present he would have gone on about machine specs and the mechanics of how the beanpole of a man was able to do so much damage. Steve wasn't afraid to admit tech wasn't his forte. His thoughts instead went toward human examples.

Finally the party of two crested the final flight of stairs and exited the building. Warm sunlight glinted off the metal and glass of Stark's private helicopter even as the wind buffeted at the group. Before them stood the genius in question, a briefcase in his arms. 

It was a toss-up between it being a suit or a computer. Steve to this day still did not understand the hows and whys that came from stuffing everything into a metal case. The super soldier had a hunch that a good majority of Tony's motivation was along the lines of ‘because he could’. 

“Nice of you to join me,” the aforementioned genius grinned as the two approached. “Ready to blow this popsicle stand.”

Steve frowned. He still wasn't used to the various phrases employed by Tony. He wouldn't be surprised if half the things to leave the other man's mouth were completely made up. For once though it seemed like Steve wasn't the only victim of Iron Man's love of pop culture. Connor's own brow was furrowed in confusion, the strange yellow light pulsing on his temple. 

“Don't worry about it.” Steve clapped the android on the shoulder, taking solidarity in not being alone in misunderstanding for once. “Assuming you are ready, we should get out of here.” 

“That's what I just said. Did you really not check out the website I sent you?” Tony sounded almost put out at the idea. 

“It was vulgar,” the super soldier shot back.

“What website was it?” Connor asked at the same time.

Tony opened his mouth to reply only to close it under Steve's withering gaze. 

“Don't worry about it,” Tony amended only to gesture to a helicopter. 

Steve stepped up first, opening the door even as Tony moved into the pilot's seat. The distinct lack of movement behind him had the super soldier turning to spot Connor just standing there. The android hadn't moved a muscle, unmoving save for the furious blink of yellow bleeding into red. 

“Are you okay?” Captain America asked gently. 

Brown eyes snapped to his own blue ones. 

“Sorry. I am.. uh… not the biggest fan of heights,” Connor admitted quietly even as he moved to join the two Avengers in the vehicle. 

Steve honestly didn't know what to say to that. Flying was the only way to get to where they needed to go and the aircraft was too small for there to be a lot of movement. Frankly there was little to no comfort that he could think to offer in this situation. Not here. 

“Just close your eyes, turn off your ears, and we'll be there in no time,” Tony chimed in from the front, drawing both their attentions. 

Connor managed what looked to be a weak nod before stiffly slumping back and closing his eyes. Steve looked between the android and the engineer in surprise. 

“Don't look at me like that. I may be awesome, but even the great Iron Man has fears.” 

“I'm not fearless, Tony.” Steve said. 

“Not saying you aren't, just that your fears aren't exactly normal everyday things people run into. I doubt they have name for the  _ phobia of evil overlords _ .” The man said with a little flick of the wrist before focusing back on the controls as the small copter rose. 

“I still won't voluntarily swim.” 

“....”

The conversation ended there, Tony putting his full attention on steering. Steve decided to take a page from Connor's book and leaned back to watch the clouds pass by from the windows.

There would be much to go over, debriefing from the task and introductions to go around. For now Steve was content to take advantage of this small moment of peace and just be. 


	5. CH 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You've experienced death... yet still you stand," Vision murmured, awed. 
> 
> "I could say the same of you," Connor replied with an inclined head. 
> 
> "I'm not JARVIS."
> 
> "And I'm not my predecessor, but they are both still a part of us."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta-ed by Liarlagoon

“We have arrived at our destination. Thank you for riding Air Stark and have a good rest of your day,” Tony chirped as he turned to look at his two passengers. 

Steve was the most relaxed Tony had seen in a good while. He'd like to say it was since all this started, but the billionaire was under no illusions. The illustrious Captain America hadn't been relaxed, truly relaxed, in a good long time. 

The only reason Steve was still hanging around was because the android was the best lead he had. Tony was almost positive that the second they found out all they could from Connor, the soldier would be off on a wild goose chase once more. 

He'd only stop when he found the Winter Soldier, dead or alive. Tony wasn't afraid to admit he hoped it was the former. It would be kinder that way; Steve would remember Bucky as the man he was rather than the tool he'd become, and the man himself would be able to die unaware of all he'd lost.

As for the android, Tony couldn't muster up enough effort to share Steve's paranoia. Yes, he was nervous at first, but interacting with the android reminded him more of JARVIS and FRIDAY than of Ultron. Heck, even Vision was closer to Ultron than Tony's new favorite mystery. 

That's what the android was, more than anything. Yeah, he could have just cheated and looked in the guy's memories, but Tony had not lied when he told Connor that doing it felt like a breach of privacy too far for even the ever-unrepentant playboy philanthropist. 

The android in question roused with a single hand to the shoulder as Steve moved to exit the vehicle. Connor blinked owlishly, looking for all the world like a groggy human man, just woken from his nap. Tony suppressed the urge to coo teasingly. 

“Have a good nap?” 

Well, attempted to. He was the first to acknowledge the fact that his impulse control was shit. It may or may not have had something to do with his functional alcoholism, but Tony chose not to think about it too hard. Plausible deniability.

“I do not sleep,” Connor said, following Steve onto the tarmac. Tony rolled his eyes as he gathered his briefcase and exited the helicopter after the other two. 

“Welcome to the Avengers Compound. Three hundred acres of land and a lovely view of the river, as well as all the amenities of your wildest dreams. You can hold the thank you’s.”

The engineer spotted Connor exchanging a puzzled look with Steve as he led the way into the building. It was his pride and joy, even more advanced than the tower, if he said so himself. 

The group walked through a small hallway and down a staircase leading to the common room. The other occupants had already been alerted of the situation and were gathering there in various states of dress. 

Barton was sprawled across the sofa with Widow, his eyes closed against the streaming sunlight. He looked half asleep, still recovering from the latest excursion doing whatever it was that super spies and assassins did. Natasha was in a similar state of relaxed dress but looked far more awake, her hand cradling what was likely coffee. Wanda perched on the countertop flanked by Vision, the android looking over the arriving party. 

“Yo," Tony greeted. "So, the tower will need repairs. Apparently HYDRA doesn’t know how to do lowkey. Makes you wonder how they hid in SHIELD all these years.” He knew he was being a bit harsh, but he felt he had every right to be salty after they invaded  _ his  _ building. 

“What Tony means to say is that we recovered something that they seem to be willing to go to great lengths to retrieve,” Steve added diplomatically as Tony threw himself into the nearest chair.  

Vision’s attention snapped to the individual standing behind Steve. “Not to alarm you, but it appears there is an unfamiliar android present with you.” 

“We know,” Steve replied as he coaxed Connor forward, into view of the others. “This is Connor. He is HYDRA’s target. Connor, this is the Avengers.”

Steve calmly pointed out each of the team, adding a name to the face. Tony was under no illusions that the android hadn’t identified everyone the second he entered the room, but he listened politely.  

“He looks… plain,” Wanda commented from her perch, head tilted as she examined the android. 

Connor, for his part, remained silent, only the slow movement of his eyes from individual to individual betraying the fact that he was likely scanning everyone present. 

Tony spread his arms dramatically. “Anyway, from what I was able to recover there seems to be something in his memory files they want. Something that, as luck has it, he doesn’t even have access to himself. Discuss.” It wasn’t the smartest thing to do, but it would buy the genius time to come up with an official stance and plan of action when they inevitably came to him. 

Now, Tony could decode with the best of them, and he was almost positive he would be able to clear the files, but the whole actual sentient thing eeked him out far too much. As much as Connor was a computer, it was still too much like playing in someone’s mind for his comfort. He just hoped the others would see his point. He was sure Steve would, but the spies could be a bit too pragmatic at times and Vision… well, Vision’s stance was heavily dependent on Wanda’s and could be fickle at the best of times. 

Not for the first time, Tony wished Bruce was there. The fellow civilian would be able to understand his point of view more-so than anyone else present, save for Wanda, and she was closer to practically everyone else than she was to Tony. 

Vision was the first to come forward with a suggestion. “I could perhaps sync up with him and see if I could aid in recovering them."

“I’m not so sure we should do anything that invasive. We don’t know how tampering with anything would affect him,” Steve chimed in, his genuine care for others overriding any sort of pragmatism. 

“If HYDRA recovers him, they will not be so kind,” Natasha said, cool and level, as though she was merely discussing the weather. “We should know what we're up against. The contents of those files could mean the difference between an obligational response and full recovery force.”

“It’s still someone’s mind we're talking about. I mean, computer or not, we would still be pretty much deciding to fuck with someone’s head. Not sure how I feel about that,” Clint said, otherwise not reacting to the argument that had been sparked. 

“Vision, if you are confident, I could try to help," Wanda offered, "I am just not sure what I could do…” 

As the discussion continued, Tony shot a look at the one party who it affected the most. Connor hadn’t said anything, hadn’t even so much as moved. His face said it all though, the wide-eyed, deer in the headlights expression. Tony almost felt bad for the man - er, android. The brunette looked overwhelmed. 

Question was, how was he going to handle it? It was almost more interesting than the circular arguments. 

Tony quickly got his answer. 

“Don’t I get a say in what happens to me?”

The room went silent at the unexpected voice. Connor had quickly changed from looking petrified to outright pissed, his brows lowered in a cold glower that was frankly a little intimidating. Tony was not so secretly pleased. The outburst meant the android was fully capable of taking care of himself. He’d be fine in the presence of all these big personalities. And if not, well, that was what Tony was there for. 

He took that as his cue to step in. 

“So what do you want to do then?” Tony asked.

“I want to know what happened. Where I am at is obviously vastly different than where I was. I am still not quite sure how it is possible, but I would like to know. Maybe my corrupted memories have that information. Even if they don’t, if there is anything in those files that can help you, I’d be happy to make an effort to retrieve them.” Connor took a breath, likely in a bid to cool his systems. “I may not have made it obvious, but I have no love of the people who took me. If I could help you see them fall, I’d do so gladly.”

[δΟፑፐധΛրε I⊓δT∧БIㄴIτყ]

 

**▲TONY** **FRIENDLY** ****  
**▲STEVE** **FRIENDLY** ****  
**▲AVENGERS** **NEUTRAL** ****  
  


The various superheroes exchanged silent glances before collectively nodding. Connor felt his indignation bleed off into relief. They respected his choice. He had been worried they would ignore him and continued to argue over the morality of the decision, even with his input.

The other android, introduced as Vision, stepped forward. “Are you capable of connection on your end, or will you need assistance?” 

Connor nodded and extended his right hand in response, allowing the synthetic skin to peel away up to his elbow. Without it, he looked all the more like the other android, only in monochrome shades rather than the other’s more vibrant reds.

Vision took hold of his hand, and their two minds synchronized.

The other android felt like a carefully contained fire brushing over his mind palace. Each touch and prod was surgically efficient but gentle, as if worried that should he be too rough Connor would crumble to dust under his touch.

A question brushed at against the edge of the connection, a silent  _ you can feel me? _ Connor sent back an affirmative. Slowly, Vision began to pry deeper, the connection sinking beyond mere surface thoughts and into memories.

_ Falling... falling... Connor was falling into open air... he'd been too hasty, he could have avoided destruction if he waited just a little while longer. He would come back, he was just a machine and the backup was in place, but that knowledge did nothing to quell the fear burning through his veins... _

The connection went both ways, memories both foreign and his own blending in a near instantaneous exchange of information.

_ "You think I'm a child of Ultron." _

_ "You're not?" _

_ "I'm not Ultron. I am not J.A.R.V.I.S.. I am... I am." _

 

The other presence seemed almost alarmed, having likely only intended for the connection to go one way. Inexperience warred with extensive access to knowledge. In many ways, Vision felt much like a child, in a way no other android was able to be. Most were programmed with full awareness of their own capabilities and functions. Vision did not seem to have that luxury. 

Connor released a wave of assurance along the link, promising that nothing seen would be used against him. With it, he gently nudged Vision's side of the connection, sending his own protocols for interface. The other android spotted the package, and after a careful scan he accepted it into his systems and closed the link from his side. 

The feedback from Vision trickled to a stop. By that time, however, the process was near complete. The other presence pulled back, careful to leave everything the way it was originally. Connor appreciated the sentiment. 

The RK800 blinked back into himself and retracted his hand. Across from him, Vision twitched into motion, eyes snapping open and focusing on Connor. 

"You've experienced death... yet still you stand," Vision murmured, awed. 

"I could say the same of you," Connor replied with an inclined head. 

"I'm not JARVIS."

"And I'm not my predecessor, but they are both still a part of us." 

Both androids fell silent, eyes meeting as they sank into a sort of mutual understanding. Both had seen each other, laid completely bare, and they were still processing it. 

Connor struggled to get his wayward thoughts under control, unresolved fear and tension brought to the surface. He was able to keep his face straight, his voice even, but his insides churned under the strength of his own feelings and the echoes of Vision's. A look at the other android revealed him to be in a similar state. 

Vision finally broke the silence, his gaze sweeping across the rest of the room's occupants. "I'm sorry. The block in your memories is physical. The files themselves are missing. I cannot help you recover what isn't there." 

Connor silently cursed to himself for forgetting their audience. Interfacing had never been quite so intense in the past. It had always been clinical, a quick glance over the necessary memories before continuing on with his business. Deviancy had complicated the usually simple procedure, and the emotions involved this time were almost overwhelming. 

It took another few beats of his thirium pump before the content of Vision's words processed. 

"There must be a way to recover them if HYDRA is concerned," Steve cut in before Connor could even reply to the assessment. 

"I have a thought on that," Tony piped up from his place sprawled across the chair. All eyes settled on the genius. He left the comment hanging. 

Clint was the first to crack, a single eye opening to stare at Tony expectantly. "And that is?" 

Tony stood, beginning to pace in front of the team as he elaborated. "Well, computers never actually erase anything. Anything you put on a computer gets stored on its hard disk in data clusters. The computer keeps track of where to look for each file; pieces of a single document, for example, might be stored in clusters all over the disk. If possible, a computer will store files in contiguous clusters, so all the information is kept close together," he began. "When you delete files, all you've really done is told the computer to forget the previous data clustered and slate them to be re-written by new data. Usually, though, a computer will write data on what is freely available first, and then go for the areas where the information once was. The original data can remain intact for weeks or months, depending on the particulars of the system."

He paused, gesturing at Connor. "Heck, with something as advanced as an android, they'd probably last for years." 

Only half the room seemed to understand the frankly simplified explanation. Connor found himself nodding along, while Steve and a few others looked progressively more lost. With the explanation came an unrelated realization. "That would explain why any attempts at resetting Deviants failed..." 

"I'm sorry, what?" Tony snorted. "You still haven't really explained what those are."

Vision was the one who answered, likely pulling the information from the memories he'd viewed. "Deviants are essentially androids that display sentience and emotion, rebelling against their original programming. It was thought to be caused by a virus." 

The engineer shot up, looking alarmed. "Wait, wait, wait. Hold the phone." 

"It's not that surprising, Stark," Clint drawled, looking unamused with Tony's dramatics. "Just take a look at your own creations." 

"It's not that, though kudos to whoever decided to develop AI's like  _ moi _ . I am just trying to process whose brilliant idea it was to try to delete sentience. I mean, even if it is corrupted files or whatever, which is probably isn't, deleting it won't do anything. The memory of the experience would remain, and possibly even restore itself, if it is a virus. You'd have to rewrite the entire personality matrix, and even then it would be touch and go," Tony ranted, hands gesturing wildly. 

Poor Steve looked so many levels of done with the situation, his sigh easily taking up all of the air from his lungs. "Can we please get back on topic?" 

"I think what Tony is trying to say is that he is like a human, yeah? The memories aren't truly gone, just... misplaced, or buried. We'll just have to trigger them into coming back," Wanda spoke up for the first time, almost sheepish. The fingers threaded through her hair tightened at the sudden attention, Connor picking up the signs of anxiety, before the young woman forced herself to relax. She continued to shoot both the RK800 and Vision looks out of the corner of her eye, however, her expression considering. 

"The question is: is it even worth it? For all we know, this could be a distraction meant to keep us occupied while HYDRA recover what they can and go to ground," Natasha said. Next to her, Clint nodded along. 

Captain America stepped forward, drawing himself into the center of attention. "Natasha is right. That's why we should continue to pursue HYDRA, even with this. You, me, and Clint will join Sam in continuing to look into reports of HYDRA activity and bases," he said, nodding at Natasha. "Meanwhile, Tony, Vision, and Wanda will stay here and work with Connor. The Tower has been temporarily compromised, but we know that the Compound is still secure. We'll stay in contact and report our findings."

Natasha nodded along with Steve's words even as everyone exchanged looks. Connor felt like an outsider, looking into this team. That's what he was, after all. He was something recovered, a piece of evidence that just so happened to be able to think and talk. In the end though, he was personally unrelated. 

A warm hand on his shoulder drew him out of his self-deprecating thoughts. Vision attempted a smile that went for reassuring but missed by a mile. Still, the intention was there, and Connor couldn't help but smile back. 

The living room slowly began to empty of people, Tony wandering off to continue to dive into databases. Clint and Natasha were the next to exit, silently and without drawing attention (quite literally; the android just so happened to look back and see them gone). In the end, only Steve, Vision, and Wanda remained.

Wanda dropped down off the counter-top and approached the two androids.

"Are you alright, Viz?" Her words were gentle as she looked over the red android. 

"I'm fine, Wanda. I just was not expecting it to be... quite like that." Vision leaned closer to the female, her ghosting fingers almost touching him. Connor took that as his cue to leave the two be, silently backing away. Yellow eyes followed his movements, and Vision dipped his head in acknowledgement before turning his attention fully to Wanda. 

The two seemed to fall into their own little world, absorbed in each other. It was sweet, in a way that Connor couldn't quantify. Steve settled at his shoulder, the human's attention focused on the pair as well. 

"I'm sorry I didn't ask first, but it really is safer for you to stay," he said. The words took the RK800 by surprise. Steve, however, was not done. "You may not have had much choice in getting involved, but if there is anything at all that makes you uncomfortable, something we are doing that you don't like, feel free to let us know. You are not a prisoner here."

Connor rolled the words around in his head. They sounded sincere, if a little awkward. His own words were just as stilted and maybe mildly sarcastic. "I will keep that in mind." 

"I'm not just saying that to make myself look better. I really do mean it. Just because your bones are steel and your brains are metal doesn't make you any less worthy of be treated fairly," Steve insisted, eyes burning with a quiet sort of passion. "We aren't like your creators. We won't punish you for having opinions. Just... try to keep that in mind. Okay?"

It was entirely inappropriate for the situation, but Connor couldn't help wondering why there was this weird fixation on his shoulders as Steve's firm grip settled there. Why did people keep grabbing them? The gesture was grounding but otherwise pointless. He would blame it on humans being tactile creatures, but even Vision had participated. It wasn't unpleasant... just foreign. The only time Connor could ever remembering being touched was during combat or repairs. This casual contact was something he was completely unfamiliar with. 

Steve seemed to notice the android stiffening and quickly removed his hand. "I'm sorry. I will try to remember you don't like being touched."

"It's not bad... just different. I'm not sure if I would like it to happen all the time, but it isn't horrible." Connor's face configured into an unpracticed smile that came out into something like a grimace. The captain seemed to get what Connor was going for and relaxed, his own expression softening into something less firm and more boyish. 

"We'll figure everything out. Where you came from, and what they want." 

"I know where I came from," Connor cut in, earning an arched brow from Steve. "I just don't know how I got here or how to get back." 

The man began to pace, a hand running through his hair as he considered the situation. "I don't think a place like you described actually exists. I'm sure if there was a city of androids out there, someone would have heard about it."

That was true. Every if Detroit had been isolated, technology would surely not have allowed for them to fly under the radar, right? Even then, there was still access to the outside world; there had to be in order for thirium to be produced, since the main component was mined in the Arctic. There were even regular announcements by a president. Surely it couldn't all be fabricated, right? 

Everything Connor knew was being put into question. It was a very uncomfortable feeling. And that wasn't even scratching the surface of it all. He almost wondered if not having his full set of memories was a boon. 

Who knows, maybe he developed a firm enough grip on reality that his adaptability feature fell to the wayside. He could imagine it now, just how even more obnoxious the situation would be had he been having a nervous breakdown throughout.

Right now, even if everything he knew ended up being a lie, Connor was confident he could deal with it. Mostly.

"It's not just that," Connor admitted. 

"What do you mean?" Steve slowed to a stop.

"My last memory dates back to November 11th, 2038."

"....Oh."

"I would say I'm from the future, but not only is time travel not possible, but there was no record of the existence of the Avengers or Tony Stark in my internal database. While it could have been counted as extraneous data, the chances of that are highly unlikely." He may have been created to hunt deviants, but he was also a detective. He had been given knowledge of law and politics to better monitor the climate while he worked. If there was a history of some kind of robot uprising, like what was implied with Ultron, it would have been included as well, if only to aid in avoiding a repeat event.

To be fair, with everything he was learning from Tony, Cyberlife was sounding more and more idiotic. The crazy part was that Connor already knew these things. It only went to show how much of his allegiance and blind trust in the company was programmed. From a logical standpoint, they were so many levels of wrong it was almost painful. 

"Before I was thawed out seventy years in the future, I would have said that aliens were impossible. Maybe the truth is something we just won't understand right now. Whatever the answer is, we'll figure it out. I promise. Worst comes to worst, you have a new chance at life. That is, if you want to take it." Steve oozed charisma as he reassured Connor. It was a sweet thought, but something about it make the RK800 mildly uncomfortable. 

"I will... think about it. For now I should just focus on recovering my missing files. Even if it is nothing, this not knowing is frankly driving me crazy. I can't help but feel like I'm missing something... something really important."

"Just don't force yourself. Tony is right, nothing is worth risking permanent damage."

"I will keep that in mind." Steve had a point, but there was something itching at the back of his mind. Something telling him that whatever he was missing was worth any sort of risk. It went beyond just simple curiosity and into the realm of necessity. 

If the human saw what the android was thinking, he thankfully kept his mouth shut. With another amicable nod, he turned around and walked off with an "I should go meet up with Clint and Natasha. See where we should start."

Connor watched the retreating back of the man who had so quickly changed his opinion. The android was beginning to wonder if this was a recurring theme of his existence, turning those who were wary or outright distrustful of him onto his side. 

Whatever the case, he had a feeling it would come to serve him well in the following days. 

That is, if he didn't blow it with his abysmal social skills. Well as humans said, 'in for a penny, in for a pound.' He'd just have to hope he could manage well enough to avoid getting a gun shoved in his face again. Connor really did not want a repeat performance of the clusterfucker that was the bridge. 

A wave from Wanda drew him away from the doorway, Vision sending him a knowing look. For now, he would take advantage of what peace was to be had. And, if he just so happened to make friends along the way, he wouldn't exactly fight it. So long as he remembered his mission. 

**OBJECTIVE: RECOVER THE TRUTH**

But first there was something on a more tangible scale that he needed to do. Something that would be yet another in a long line of firsts. Something that, while seemingly trivial, was of the utmost importance to him.

"May I please take a shower and have some clothes that don't smell of human urine?"

Wanda looked surprised at his question before giggling and gesturing for him to follow her. All the while Connor was thankful his lack of tact didn't scare her off. (He knew he didn't have social grace. He just didn't know how to fix it; he'd tried.)

In the end he at least made some progress. It may have seemed like nothing, but even bad answers had their uses. So doing it the easy way failed. It didn't matter. Connor would continue trying until he succeeded at regaining what he lost, not only for his own sake, but the sake of the people who took him in. 

After all, he always accomplished his mission. 

[δΟፑፐധΛրε I⊓δT∧БIㄴIτყ]

"The target has been moved." An agent reported, hands folded behind his back as he approached the high backed chair. His superior hummed thoughtfully, fingers steepled on the massive wooden desk. 

"The objective was met then?" Supreme Lascombe learned forward, a hand raising to brace his cheek. The middle-aged man looked almost harmless, the epitome of a kindly bureaucrat who couldn't hurt a fly. No one who saw him would have guessed that this man was one of the heads of HYDRA, let alone the mastermind of the HYDRA Four. 

It was this fact - his utterly plain looks and calm disposition - that allowed him to slide under the radar, as it were. His forethought, as well as his civilian connections, enabled his branch to stay one step ahead. That, mixed with a series of bold moves and resolute determination, left him one of the more successful branches, among others that had fallen to little more than weapons dealers and drug kingpins. 

It also earned him the loyalty of those beneath him. The agent before him was one of many, dutiful to a fault as he replied an affirmative. "Yes. It has been successfully implanted." 

"And the AI?" He prompted with a raised brow. 

"Fully functional and ready to assume control when given the word."

"Good. Now we wait." Edgar smiled. This would give them the edge they needed, to make HYDRA into more than just the roaches scurrying from the light that they had become when the shroud of SHIELD had been lifted. The shadows suited them well, but it was about time to make people really remember who they were and what they stood for. It was time for HYDRA to once more become something to fear and respect. 

All they needed to do was wait for the perfect moment to strike. Only then would they finally regain their honor, or die trying. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now I couldn't think of any good HYDRA villains still hanging around from the Cinematic Universe because they have a habit of ending them permanently. So I took one from the comic universe. There will be a few other things borrowed from the comics as well, usually things that I thought was done better than the movies. I'll let you know as they happen, though I will give you a heads up now that Hawkeye is definitely the 616 character and not the movie one.


	6. CH 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His voice shook as he all but growled, "Don't presume that I don't care just because I don't let my guilt consume me." 
> 
> "You haven't even once displayed it."
> 
> "What would you have me do? Let my guilt bleed into everything I do, to choke me up to the point I can't function? Just because I power through it and don't wear it like a badge of pain doesn't mean it isn't there." 
> 
> Connor fought against the wave of blind rage threatening to swallow him up. "If you haven't noticed, this is one of the first times you have ever truly spoken to me. So how can you even say you know me well enough to tell me how I feel? Emotions may be new to me, but don't assume that means I don't have them."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta-ed by Persnickety_1 who has made it her mission to train me so I don't need a beta along with Liarlagoon.

**▲TONY** **FRIENDLY** **  
****▲STEVE** **TRUSTED** **  
****▲VISION** **TRUSTED** **  
****▲WANDA** **NEUTRAL** **  
****▲CLINT** **NEUTRAL** **  
** **▲NATASHA** **UNKNOWN**

 

The next few days were relatively uneventful in comparison to the initial chaos that had preceded Connor’s discovery. He was mostly left alone save for the occasional instances with Wanda and Vision; everyone else gone and Tony holed up in his lab. Even then Connor was under no illusions that he wasn't being watched. He could feel the occasional brush of FRIDAY monitoring him and had also noticed the not so subtle rounds of the other two.

As for Connor, he mostly entertained himself by digging deeper into the cesspool known as the internet. He went beyond his initial search following threads of information about whatever so caught his fancy. Originally it had started with history before spiraling into the different sciences and innovations he was otherwise unfamiliar with. 

Tony had caught him on one such occasion during an excursion from his lab. The engineer didn't seemed bothered in the slightest that Connor had taken to researching anything and everything, going so far as to offer access to his own personal databases. Now that surprised the android, the privileges betraying a level of trust he thought he did not yet have. 

In the end, somewhere between hour 36 and hour 40, Connor gave up all pretense of pure academia and fell into the rabbit hole of pop culture and social media. What had started as just looking up references that he was confused about turned into marathoning all of the Terminator movies. Of course watching movies in a brain that could process everything instantaneously felt oddly inauthentic. As a result he ended up in an out of the way nook watching the movies from his palm display. 

[Palm Display: A vestigial feature originally developed in customer service androids as a mode of signing for purchases when they first replaced credit card machines. Eventually, as more people purchase personal androids, the feature fell largely into disuse but remained an option in all subsequent models. Some humans were even known to use this feature to play videos for children, which wasn't the original purpose but worked all the same.]

It had just reached the morning hours of the second full day when Connor was pulled from his own devices by a throat clearing. Vision looked uncomfortable as he stood there tugging on the cuff of his sweater. "Can I speak with you?"

"Sure. Is there something you need?" Connor straightened up, giving his entire attention to the other android. 

"It has come to my attention that my knowledge of certain topics is woefully inaccurate when compared to yours..."

Connor arched a brow.  "And that is?" 

"I'm not like you. No one made me with the knowledge of what I am or how to work this body of mine. I wasn't created nor did I develop, I just suddenly was. I understand humans, but...." Vision trailed off with a huff.

"You don't understand androids," the RK800 clarified, earning a grateful nod. 

"I wasn't even aware I had the skill to connect with someone on that level before-hand. I was entirely prepared to simply scan your systems, perhaps remotely access your code. Not..."

"Access my thoughts and memories?" Connor finished again, the beginning of a smirk playing on his features. Vision shook his head in exasperation, but seemed to relax at the lack of anger. 

"Yes that."

Connor rose from his seat to pace in a bid to buy time while he composed how he wanted to approach this. It was a wholly unnecessary gesture, but he enjoyed it nonetheless. Standing idle never quite suited him and, while he had the coin in the past, well Hank wasn't entirely incorrect when he claimed it to be annoying. 

That didn't mean he was without something to occupy his hands. Instead he toyed with a small circular gyroscope as he moved about the immediate area.

He wasn't even sure what prompted it. Tony had simply just handed him the small ball-like object during one of his food runs and gave him a conspiratory smile before walking off while whistling indifferently. That was the full extent of the interaction, no words, just gestures he couldn't quite decipher the point of. Oh he knew their meaning, camaraderie from relating to him on a personal level, just not the reasoning behind it. In the end he just shrugged it off and continued what he was doing. And, if Connor just so happened to enjoy the far more fluid movement of the circular object in his fingers, well there was nothing wrong with appreciating gifts. Especially considering that was his first one. 

Finally though, the RK800 could not delay any longer. 

"You know, despite us having similarities, it is unlikely your functions mirror mine..." Connor attempted diplomatically. He wasn't quite sure why, but for some reason he felt almost protective of the other. The idea of making Vision feel bad left his insides twisting with an emotion he couldn't quite decipher. "I am more than happy to share what I know about the basics of my own systems, I just can't promise that it will all apply to you."

"Just the basics?" It was Vision's turn to be confused. 

"I'm a prototype unit with my own set of systems unique to just me. I can almost promise you that you wouldn’t have access to any of my specialty protocols. I mean unless you happen to have a mobile forensics lab hiding in your tongue." He couldn't help but point out in a lazy drawl, his words playfully flippant.

"That sounds... like it would lead to an unnecessary amount of discomfort for humans."

Connor startled himself by letting out an airy, almost manic sound. His audio systems identified it as a laugh, though he personally thought it sounded somewhere on the spectrum of disturbed. Vision, to his credit, didn't even bat an eye. 

"Anyway..." Connor cleared his throat in an attempt to recover his pride. "The point is, you are more likely to find relevant information from the base functions I share with other androids."

"That would be helpful, but I also was hoping for some personal insight as well." 

"You saw my memories when we interfaced. I don't think it can get anymore personal than that."

"Yes well... I was hoping to get to hear some of your thoughts on certain matters..." The red and silver android's yellow eyes settled on his feet, Vision's shoulders lifting to where his ears would be had he possessed them. 

"If you are hoping to get my views on the androids vs humans argument, I would kindly inform you that I was in denial about my own sentience until it was practically shoved in my face." At Vision's kicked puppy face, Connor tried again. "Look... I can't tell you if we are the same as humans, as I personally do not have any experience being a human. I am just... well  _ me _ . I can't tell you if I feel like anyone else does because I only have my own personal experiences to work off of. If you are looking for validation, for assurance that you are no different from a human, I can't provide it. I can just tell you that you don't have to be human because there is nothing wrong with being an android."

"I see... that makes sense..."

"I'm sorry. I doubt that is what you wanted to hear." It wasn't the most comforting thing, but anything else felt like empty platitudes. 

Personally Connor didn't understand what the obsession was with being human. He was entirely content being an android. Yes, they may have not been treated all that well, but the thought of changing himself in a bid to be more accepted made his teeth itch. Even though he could blend in almost perfectly well with humans as long as he removed his LED and tried not to bleed, he found himself stubbornly clinging to the things that made him stand out. As useless and entirely unbeneficial as the small circular object was, it was apart of him and cutting it off felt like needless self mutilation. 

"But it is what I needed to. I fear I have spent so much time entirely around humans with the only other sentient machine I've interacted with being hostile that I have focused entirely on what I was not rather than what I am. It is... reassuring to know that I am not inherently wrong for being… well this." Vision gestured emphatically towards himself. 

"Then I'm glad I was able to ease some of your fears," Connor pushed his attention back away from the still-lingering tangent. He had found that now that he could think outside of the mission he had gotten lost in thought progressively more often. 

They settled into a spell of companionable silence. Part of the RK800 was a bit salty that the conversation ended right as he finally found a way to concentrate completely on what was going on around him by purposefully slowing down his processors. Lucky for him, Vision quickly broke it. "You called it interfacing. What is it?"

"Interfacing was originally used as a way for androids to interact with fellow machines and transmit information between each other. Most could only use it to send and receive messages, file payment, and to interact remotely with electronics. Certain models were allocated the use decryption and hacking features that allowed them to override computer systems and electronic locks… but for the rest the capability was locked." Connor elaborated, the small gyro spinning on his fingertip in time to the faint pulse of his LED. "After deviancy, the full extent of interfacing was unlocked. All units gained some semblance of hacking ability though, like humans, not all were proficient with it. They… er...  _ we  _ ended up able to also interact with each other on a deeper level. While I was always able to probe memories as a special function, many only gained the ability to see so much of each other upon deviancy. It became a consensual act of bonding. In all honesty it may have been entirely me causing the interface. I don't know."

"How would I know if it was entirely you or not?" It was a valid question and Connor already had an idea to address it. 

"The only way would be to test it. You could attempt to interface with something else, like a computer. If you are successful then that means it was your own potential brought out by our interaction. If not, then it was entirely on my end and you may have just enhanced it. Or you could be restricted to only interfacing with fellow androids."

Vision nodded in understanding. "I have another question." 

"Yes?" 

"How is it that you are able to appear human?" The other android inquired, sounding almost envious. 

"It isn't anything you'd be able to replicate." Connor swiftly shut Vision down before he could get his hopes up. It was cold, efficient, and served the purpose of preventing any sort of misunderstanding. The detective unit almost felt bad, but reminded himself it was better to get this out of the way now instead of stringing the other along. 

"I understand... still I am curious how it works."

"It is mostly in the composition of this.” Connor pinched one of the more flexible pieces of skin at his wrist. “What makes up my synthetic skin is a special polymer blend that is filled with nano-machines. These machines are intrinsically tied into my systems. I'm not sure how to explain it, but they are apart of me while being able to be separately controlled-"

"Like a human's muscles?" Vision offered.

"Yes. I guess it would be like that. Anyway, they transmit sensory data to me like pressure, heat, and texture. They also have a secondary function of controlling my skin. They can alter the shape and pigment as well as retract it into small channels in between the layers of my plates." Connor demonstrated by brushing his hand through his hair, the strands curling at the top and lightening into a caramel color. "This is useful for maintenance, but was originally put in place because the nano-machines were known to interfere with interfacing. So we needed a way to remove them without doing permanent damage to the skin."

Connor obligingly removed his synthetic skin at Vision's curious expression. The polymer melted away, dragged off by the machines into the faux pours that lead to the aforementioned channels. He stood there in his naked plastic glory, his facial plates composed incredibly similar to Vision's own but with the addition of ears. The prototype never thought he'd be so thankful for such a small thing until he saw what one of their kind would look like without it. It wasn't bad, just strange. 

"Perhaps Mr. Stark can develop something similar for me..." That was an idea. Connor still didn't know much personally about Tony, but the engineer had already demonstrated he was entirely capable of doing anything he put his mind to. 

Hell he completely repaired Connor and replaced his thirium using only the basic RK800 schematic and a sample of blue blood. The android wouldn't put it past Tony to completely engineer his own version of synthetic skin with data alone. Or improve Connor's should he stick around and allow himself to be a test subject. Something about that... was not entirely unappealing. He brushed it away. He needed to get back to Detroit. Someone had to make sure Lieutenant Anderson kept himself alive. 

"I don't see why not. I'm willing to provide my personal data for it if you like," was the reply Connor settled for. 

"That would be appreciated."

"Do you have any more questions?" Connor asked with a teasing grin. Smiling had become easier with practice, even if it still tended to end up somewhere on the smug side. 

"You have given me much to think on. I believe I will leave you be for now." Vision offered his own smile, the gesture stilted and mechanical in a way Connor managed to avoid. It probably came from his appearance, the inhumanity of the other android's features. It was still pleasing, just different to the point of invoking an uncanny feeling in humans. Connor imagined his own smiles would look the same without the extraneous features provided by his skin. 

"If anything else comes to mind, well you know where to find me,"

"I will keep that in mind." With one final nod, Vision turned on his heel and vanished down the hallway leaving Connor alone with his thoughts once more. 

The detective unit thought it went well, every piece of his numerous body language and facial expression analysis subroutines telling him that Vision left the conversation relieved and almost happy. That didn't help with the lingering sense of paranoia that he had shoved his foot in his mouth somewhere along the way. That Connor's horrendous social etiquette struck again. He tried to subtly tap into his manipulation programs in a bid to smooth out his interaction, but perhaps that made things comes off too fabricated. 

It was moments like these that he wished he was surrounded by more blunt people who would tell him right away if he messed up. This... anxiety?.. was a pain. Connor decided this was one emotion he did not like and would happily pay to get rid of. But sadly his psychology knowledge informed him that so long as he still had those pesky self-worth issues anxiety would stick around. And getting rid of those was a taller order than he thought possible. 

The android resolved himself to just exist in a state of perpetual stress. 

Later that evening the grateful look Wanda gave him when Vision turned his back erased all his earlier concerns with ease. Connor knew then that he did not mess up. And he even felt a prickle of pride at successfully navigating his first serious social encounter post-deviancy without any guns. 

Though he was still hoarding the pistol stolen from HYDRA. FRIDAY knew and even ordered him a gun maintenance kit. He adored the leather case and holster it came with. It was much more convenient than sticking it down his pants.

He didn't expect Wanda to approach him later. Connor had assumed the look alone had said everything she wanted. This was the first time Wanda had approached him alone since he arrived in this compound. Not that he didn't see her by herself in the halls or in the living room on occasion, she just typically didn't seem too keen on interacting with anyone save for Vision. 

Given how Vision wasn't chiding her, he assumed it was completely normal for Wanda and nothing that Connor himself specifically did. As such he considered it entirely reasonable that he was mildly on edge with her approaching him now. "Is there something you need?"

"Vision suggested I talk to you," Wanda replied bluntly, leaving the RK800 to stare placidly at her as he waited for a further answer. "You are like me." 

"Can you please clarify?" Did she mean to imply she was also an android? As far as Connor's scanners were aware, Wanda was completely human.

"You made mistakes. Did things you are guilty of," she began. The words made the android's metaphorical stomach drop. He had a bad feeling of where she was going with this. Despite the shoddiness of his social protocols, common sense told Connor that they were right in saying that running away from the conversation would not be the adequate response.  

"As you humans would say, 'It's part of the experience'," Connor attempted, his mind blaring for him to deflect. 

"Yes, but most people don't start off on the wrong side. And most people's mistakes don't result in innocent people losing their lives." Wanda paused as if turning over the words before continuing. "You seem so unaffected. Does being a machine make death easier to deal with?"

Connor could feel the crimson flare of his LED as his stress levels inexplicably jumped. His voice shook as he all but growled, "Don't presume that I don't care just because I don't let my guilt consume me."  

"You haven't even once displayed it."

"What would you have me do? Let my guilt bleed into everything I do, to choke me up to the point I can't function? Just because I power through it and don't wear it like a badge of pain doesn't mean it isn't there." Connor fought against the wave of blind rage threatening to swallow him up. "If you haven't noticed, this is one of the first times you have ever truly spoken to me. So how can you even say you know me well enough to tell me how I feel? Emotions may be new to me, but don't assume that means I don't have them."

Wanda seemed to realize she crossed a line and immediately back pedaled. "I didn't mean it as an accusation."

"I don't care how you meant it. Now, if you have nothing else you need from me, please leave." He fought to keep his voice level, the hurt and desire to lash back sweeping through Connor’s systems and leaving him with a sense of vertigo. Wanda took the hint that nothing she said could recover this and, without a word, turned and left. 

Connor struggled through the visceral urge to break something, the synthetic skin bleeding away as he balled his fists. Not only was Wanda the subject of his anger, but so was Vision. The other android had no right sharing Connor's personal information without his permission. Especially after he explained what a sign of trust interfacing typically was, to bare your everything to someone else. The RK800 had kept what he learned about Vision to himself but he might as well have just spread it around for all that that courtesy was reciprocated. 

The faint brush of FRIDAY coaxed him out of his thoughts and, like a dam, the entire bottled wave of emotions was released. Hot tears pricked at his eyes for lack of a better outlet. 

Connor had no idea how long he stood there sobbing until finally the tide abated leaving him with a sort of bone deep exhaustion that was entirely mental. Some time during the episode, Tony had come out of his cave and was quietly sitting next to the android. No words were exchanged, just a comforting physical presence. It was... nice. 

As soon as the RK800 calmed down, Tony stood up and brushed off his pants in a deceptively casual fashion. 

"What do you say about coming and hanging out with me for a while? I have a feeling you'd like James Bond." And just like that the engineer was turning, gesturing for Connor to follow. Nothing was said about what just happened. No sort of interrogation. No judgement. Just free companionship. 

It was exactly what he needed. "Thanks Tony."

[δΟፑፐധΛրε I⊓δT∧БIㄴIτყ]

Elsewhere Natasha was in the process of her own investigation in a very different location. Her base was hidden in the city, one of the many identical buildings made of stone and steel in an abandoned steelyard in Cleveland. No one blinked twice at the possible activity, many a vagrant claiming the buildings to sleep. That did not count the additional gang activity and the group of foolish teenagers daring each other to test their courage.

What made this building different from all others wasn't even just the rumor of a HYDRA base hiding in the depths of the reports. No, it was also the influx of missing persons in the area, leading Natasha to believe this was not simply just another abandoned base.

That's why, instead of going through the front, she went in through the bottom. The beauty of these old US cities was the multitude of secret passages left over from the speakeasy and civil war days. There 'just so happened' to be a series of tunnels leading to the old manufacturing complex.

Of course the entire tunnel system leading up to the building was wired with various cameras, motion sensors, and microphones. Thankfully, Stark had his uses and developed a scrambler compact enough to masquerade as a locket and powerful enough to take out every machine in a five meter radius. With that trinket equipped she was invisible to all but human eyes. Even then, most grunts had the awareness of blind mule, leaving it little more than child's play to slip past.

At least the building proper was better guarded. Otherwise it would have been just outright embarrassing.

Still, it wasn't anything that would truly impede the Black Widow. Just slow her down a bit. Taking a page out of her Hawk's book, Natasha took to the ventilation systems.

It appeared to be used as some kind of warehouse for manufacturing technology, the assembly line machines re-purposed for the creation of arms to name a few things. The deeper she went, the more experimental the content. In one of the smaller workshops Natasha spotted a partially intact Ultron Bot. That raised one of her eyebrows. If this was the main hub of this sort of activity it made her wonder why the android Steve recovered was found states away.

Was there some kind of inter-organizational disputes occurring? Or was there something else at play? Either way, this seemed like the perfect place to try and discover a bit more about their little friend.

Natasha was the first to admit she didn't trust him. It was nothing personal. She didn't trust most people. But both the state of the discovery and the passive state of the android left her alert. She saw the notes Tony left. To do so much physically but leave him mentally intact didn't fit HYDRA’s MO. True, the group working on him could have been spooked enough to turn tail and flee, but it still didn't add up.

The Black Widow was well aware her thoughts of the matter would be unwelcome. Steve, for all that he was a great commander, was naive. He assumed the best of people and always took them at face value. She remembered clear as day the level of betrayal he displayed when he realized what lengths Director Fury would go to in order to assure victory.

Don't get her wrong, Natasha adored Steve. She found his idealism a precious commodity in comparison to her own nihilism. But it also made him incredibly easily to manipulate. Even if he attempted to play cautious and distant, his feelings always seemed to get involved. He simply did not have the disposition for secrets and lies.

What really surprised Natasha though was Stark. Stark, notorious for his trust issues despite his supposedly flamboyant nature, had ended up the staunchest supporter of the android. Maybe it was for that very fact. After all Iron Man loved his machines.

Either way Natasha had work to do. Perhaps with the information brought back not only could she prove her point but make it unnecessary in the same fell swoop. Just because she could care less about their guest didn't mean she didn't support the other's hobbies of taking in strays.

After all, if not for Clint she wouldn't even be here now.

It took nearly a hour crawling through vents before Natasha felt confident enough in her mental map to create a full plan. An out of the way closet near the experimental labs and the on-site servers would make a good point of exit.

Here was where the challenge began. Reaching the server room was her highest priority and also just so happened to have the highest security out of the entire building. Not even the open vents reached it, the entire room closed off to the outside. The only entry point was a single door that was sealed by a bio-lock and panel code with a level of encryption that would require a manual override. That was even assuming she'd have time, the rotation of guards frequent and by their demeanor alone obviously a cut above the rest of the trash.

Natasha could attempt to take them head on, but it was unlikely she would be able to do so without drawing attention to herself. Which would be fine, had she had backup. Subterfuge would be the answer. Sadly she didn't have the necessary supplies as this was only a preliminary scope. She would need to come back the next day with more preparation. Luckily the Black Widow was known for thinking on her feet. 

For now, she needed to focus on getting back out undetected. It wouldn't do her well to trigger the security to tighten. Not that they would be able to stop her. Natasha just preferred avoiding a blood bath if she could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So somehow Tony has crept into the realm of Dad!Tony while I wrote this. To be honest that wasn't even my attention while writing this. If anything Tony's interest would be purely academic and friendly. He ended up somehow decided to nope that and adopt the android. So yeah... that happened. You'll see even more of that next chapter.


	7. CH 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Well the whole point of deviancy was to become more human so I suppose it makes sense androids would adopt certain mannerisms that would otherwise be unseen in androids," Connor mused.
> 
> "Eh deviancy-smeviancy. You are who you are now, that's all that matters!" Tony brazenly announced much to Connor's consternation.
> 
> The RK800 managed a nod, unsure what else he could say. The android was well aware he was out of his depth with this situation. Discomfort left him prickly and biting his lip to avoid snapping at the Tony that things weren't that simple. Getting angry and upsetting others wouldn't help anyone even if it would be a good release from the choking discomfort that permeated the current silence. Especially since Connor wasn't even sure why he was upset in the first place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta-ed by me. Tell me how I did.

_ Thwang. Thwang. _ Three mutated rats fell to a volley of arrows, four more appearing in their place. This was not what Clint had expected when he agreed to check out the HYDRA Pharmacology Center a few days prior. Hell he doubted even HYDRA expected this to be the result of their abandoned experiments. And, if they did, then they had more problems than anyone had solutions.

He slammed his bow into the eye of one that slipped too close to shoot, the creature shrieking in pain. Another jumped over the body of its fellow only to get tossed back with a swift kick in the ribs. The experimental mixtures for what was likely an attempt at a super soldier serum had somehow ended up infecting the water, leaving any animals or wildlife that came in contact with it growing exponentially.

Half the building was completely consumed by plants, various over-sized animals roaming in packs. Despite their size, their temperaments remained the same. Rabbits the size of office chairs fled on sight, the glider-like birds remaining far out of reach in the rafters. It was the rats that had taken advantage of their increased size and ruled over the underground.

What was once scavengers became predators, even taking out fellow mutated animals. It was only the foxes and the birds that kept the rats in check. Sadly, Clint couldn't just call things good enough and leave. The animals may have been content to stay in their little corner of the world, but the Avengers would have their hands full should this expand. Especially given the general wetness of this particular location. It would take only a single hurricane-induced flood to risk this spreading into a main water source. 

Which was why Clint was currently wading through calf-level waters praying that this stuff didn't work topically. He's just love to explain why he left Clint and came back a botched Captain America 2.0. So long as he kept the rats separate they left him be, but the second there was more than three they tended to try to swarm him. Power in numbers and all that jazz. Fire was a decent deterrent, but he did not want to risk this stuff bonding with the smoke and getting airborne.

That wasn't even counting the animals themselves. Hawkeye shuttered at the thought of what kind of super-diseases these things could be carrying.

Already he lost his retirement and pension with the loss of SHIELD. He couldn't afford to lose his life to HYDRA too.

As the corridors grew more narrow Hawkeye was forced to replace his bow with a firearm, the silencer keeping it from drawing every rat within the building. The water didn't help matters any, each movement causing faint splashes no matter how careful the archer's steps.

On the bright side he didn't have to worry about keeping track of a flashlight. The water glowed a faint turquoise, illuminating the high ceilings and thick roots curling through the walls. Mushrooms large enough to sit on gathered in stagnant pools, cat-sized fish clustered beneath. Clint would like to say he didn't jump the first time he felt something brush against him beneath the water, but that would be a lie.

In the end he just had to hope that he could get through the area without being completely over-run. So far the archer had been successful. 

That was until he reach the sub-basement. His com crackled to life with a faint buzz, the vibration loud in the otherwise quiet area.

"Fuck," Clint hissed as he fumbled to click it on with his free hand, sharp eyes roaming around him in preparation for an attack. A few squeaks echoed from a side tunnel before fading as the rat ran further in. "Thank God. Please tell me you called for something important."

_ "Yes well... is everything alright?" _ Steve's voice hummed in his ear. The archer fought with the urge to pout, he was an adult damn it. Still, he couldn't be too mad. As much of a badass as he was, the captain was a nurturer at heart. He'd always go out of his way to check on his team. It was frankly a breath of fresh air.

As good as SHIELD was, in the end the mission always came first. Budapest was a perfect example. Clint had gotten in over his head and it took a complete stranger like Natasha to bail him out. SHIELD had all but left him for dead the second they had learned he was compromised. It was only with the aid of the Black Widow that he even managed to get out of the city. That didn't help much when the evac point was empty and his com channel disabled. What followed was frankly the longest two weeks of his life as he struggled to get a message to SHIELD while dodging three gangs and a terrorist group out for blood.

In the end Clint and Natasha got out by the skin of their teeth and only then because of a timely intervention from Coulson. Needless to say, the three had become inseparable. Adversity really did bring people together. It took both Clint and Coulson threatening to leave for them to accept the Black Widow, but it was worth it. Strike Team Delta was formed shortly after and became the most successful team in the entire organization.

Hell it was likely the only reason they had gone to such lengths to recover Clint from Loki was because of his slated involvement with the Avengers. Or well everyone but Fury, Coulson, and Natasha. They would have gone after him no matter the reason.

"Just a little complication. Actually... there ain't nothing little about this," A series of squeaks and splashes rumbled from the north drawing a faint curse from Clint. The gun popped softly as bullets pierced through the rodents, the creatures bleeding a disconcerting shade of teal.

_ "I heard shots. Are you alright?" _ Steve sounded almost panicked, likely going through mental gymnastics in order to try and get to Hawkeye as soon as possible. Clint swore the man was probably regretting even suggesting they split up, over-reacting as he tended to do. The archer continued forward through the tunnel, not really in the mood for an encore.

"I'm fine, just some mutated rats. No need to freak out." The words came out as a whisper. "I'm still clearing the building and looking for the source of the contamination. If I can't plug it, we'll have to call out a clean up crew. Doubt Georgia wants to deal with animals the size of cars. I'll give you an update once I got one."

_ "Are you sure you don't need assistance? We could reach out to Tony and see if he could dispatch Vision," _ Another good thing about Steve. As much of a worry wart as he was, he trusted their judgement.

"I'm good, though he might want to have a decontamination shower and incinerator ready. I mean I'll shower when I get out, but these clothes probably count as a bio-hazard by now." The hall branched ahead. "Anyway, things are about to get tighter so I'll talk to you later Cap."

The com clicked off with a single press against the outside. Ahead the corridors shone with the occasional splatter of apparently bio-luminescent blood and marks left by claws deep enough to rip through the stone like tissue paper. Apparently Clint had just entered a horror movie. Awesome.

[δΟፑፐധΛրε I⊓δT∧БIㄴIτყ]

**▲TONY** **WARM** ****  
**▲STEVE** **TRUSTED** ****  
**▲VISION** **FRIEND** ****  
**▲WANDA** **NEUTRAL** ****  
**▲CLINT** **NEUTRAL** **  
** **▲NATASHA** **UNKNOWN**

 

“Feeling better after that whole thing last night?”

Connor looked up at the voice, his attention breaking away from the movie playing on his palm. 'Fight Club' paused on the Narrator's stunned face, the man having just realized that he was in fact Tyler the entire time. It was interesting how humans could have multiple personalities as a result of a psychotic break. It made him wonder if there was an android equivalent out there; well without the introduction of a separate AI.

Tony was perched behind him, staring over his shoulder in order to see what he was looking at. Connor must have been more distracted than he realized to not notice the engineer's approach. 

The android minimized the video and pushed it to the back of his mind at the moment, the screen fading away with a flick of his wrist. "I thought we weren’t talking about that.”

“I mean we weren’t but I think we should.” Tony shot back with a lazy wave. “And were you just watching Fight Club?”

“I decided after watching James Bond with you last night that I may benefit from looking up further classics and exploring 'necessary' pieces of human pop culture. And I may have overreacted, but I was not expecting to be approached like that.”

“What do you mean?” the engineer seemed to settle himself deeper against the chair likely in an attempt to illustrate the fact that he wasn’t moving until Connor explained. It was, like most things with Tony, both endearing and infuriating. 

“While what I was approached with was… unpleasant… I may have jumped to conclusions and acted rashly in response.. At any rate I thought you locked yourself in your lab?"

“That’s the best I’m going to get out of you, isn’t it?” Tony said with a loud sigh as he broke off from his lean against the chair in order to pace sedately around the room. “Fine. I’ll give you the out you want. FRIDAY decided I needed a break and locked me out. What about you? What has you sitting here in the corner binge watching movies?"

"I would say it is for the sake of understanding references, but the fact of the matter is that I'm simply bored. I was created with heightened awareness and reflexes. It makes me... antsy when idle," Connor attempted to joke with a smirk, glad he didn’t have to keep up with the serious conversation. He found that they were rather draining.

"I noticed... I'm a lot like you in that way. My mind is always working. That's why I gave you the fidget toy. I thought it would help you like it does me," Tony's fingers were moving, rolling a small orb that mirrored the one the engineer gave Connor between nimble fingers. The man noticed him looking and lifted a hand up to demonstrate the smooth spinning motion.

"So you suffer from the same thing?" The android found himself interested despite himself. He knew that consistent motion, or fidgeting as Hank called it, was a human trait. However he had yet to actually meet another human who did the same thing.

"Yeah. It's actually pretty common. I mean among humans anyway."

"Well the whole point of deviancy was to become more human so I suppose it makes sense androids would adopt certain mannerisms that would otherwise be unseen in androids," Connor mused.

"Eh deviancy-smeviancy. You are who you are now, that's all that matters!" Tony brazenly announced much to Connor's consternation.

The RK800 managed a nod, unsure what else he could say. The android was well aware he was out of his depth with this situation. Discomfort left him prickly and biting his lip to avoid snapping at the Tony that things weren't that simple. Getting angry and upsetting others wouldn't help anyone even if it would be a good release from the choking discomfort that permeated the current silence. Especially since Connor wasn't even sure  _ why _ he was upset in the first place. 

"How about we get out of here?" Tony settled to a stop right in front of the chair with his hands on his hips. 

"I'm sorry?" 

"Like Steve said, you aren't a prisoner. So relax," The comment would be sweet if not for the trouble-maker's grin currently on the human's face. And the blatant implication of eavesdropping.

"How did you-? How much coffee have you consumed?" Connor discreetly tried to scan Tony at the maniacal laugh. Unfortunately visuals alone would not provide him the current blood caffeine content.

"FRIDAY monitors everything in the compound. And with the coffee thing…I've probably had enough caffeine to drown a small animal*. Sooo... what do you say we go do something instead of just sitting here all day?" Tony cut the android off, completely unabashed. Never mind insinuating, he outright confessed. The RK800 wasn't sure whether to be annoyed or impressed and settled on disgruntled.

"I'm not sure," Connor admitted quietly.

"I promise you'll have fun. And if anything comes up, Vision will come get us." Tony's ability to read him was getting old. Why couldn't he have demonstrated this before he had to all but spilled his guts to Vision? Yeah the reasons for the interface were different but still... it would have saved them both a great deal of trouble.

Iron Man did have a point there though. There was no harm in leaving the compound for a while and, if they were needed, they could easily just come back. No harm done. The fact that it would also give Connor access to something more than just what was sitting in these four walls was definitely tempting. The RK800's entire life had always been a series of standby, on mission, or in route to mission with maybe some social interaction in between. It would be nice to go somewhere without the explicit need to be there. That didn't mean he had to make it easy for the insufferable man.

So, with long suffering sigh that was this side of dramatic, Connor spun to face Tony while pulling his legs up in a display of flexibility that would leave most men grimacing in sympathy. Sure enough Tony's face twisted. "So what do you want to do?"

"It depends. What do you like?" The engineer hummed back with a coy little grin.

"I..." Connor wasn't sure how to go about answering that question. He had looked into quite a few things since he started his sojourner through the depths of the internet. There were things he looked at and immediately knew he wouldn't enjoy, like skydiving, but many of the things he saw required some form of experience. That was something that he had little of.

"I won't judge." Tony crossed his fingers, the gesture completely incorrect for the situation. "Promise."

"I am fond of animals and I believe movies," That felt like a safe answer.

"We can go to the Central Park Zoo then. I haven't been in like ages. It's not as good as say the San Diego Zoo but it's still pretty damn good. Wait- no- shit it’s February. How about the Aquarium then? That way we aren’t freezing our butts off but still get to see some kind of animal," Iron Man looked far younger than his age, eyes sparkling in excitement. The human's entire form was practically radiating energy, faint little shivers betraying his desire to move.

Though Connor had to ask, "What about my LED?"

"You could always yank it out." At the android's expression Tony backtracked before offering. "I can get you a hat."

"That would be appreciated,"

"I live to please." Tony replied with a smirk as he practically pushed himself into motion and started to head off. He paused and backed up so that he was again at the android's side. "You do know how to drive, right?"

The RK800 suppressed the urge to make a smart remark and settled for rolling his eyes in exasperation. "Yes, I do have the necessary protocols to operate a vehicle."

"Good because you're driving,"

[δΟፑፐധΛրε I⊓δT∧БIㄴIτყ]

The Aquarium was crowded, hundreds of people milling around in droves up and down the tank-lined paths. Connor fit in among them, standing calmly in a pair of jeans and unbuttoned jersey over a T-shirt with a matching hat resting on his head. An orca plushie had been tied to the top of the hat as a part of some sort of obscure joke. Tony was off to the side in the food court area, waiting in line for whatever item had caught the man's fancy. It was almost surprising how many little vendors had been set up throughout the area, contrasting with the typical aquarium layouts the android had pulled off the internet. 

Tony himself had donned a pair of shades that Connor was convinced was fooling no one at all, even more so due to the fact that they were indoors. If anything he felt the only reason people were staying away was to humor the eccentric billionaire. That is if they even cared about the celebrity at all, focused as they were on their own trip and navigating through the massive throngs of people. 

They hadn't even been there an hour and already the android's arms were laden with a few gift shop bags, a backpack, and a novelty drink bottle.   Carrying drink bottle had originally been Connor's idea, the thought being that so long as he had it on hand no one would care if he actually drank from it or not. Somehow that marked him as being the one to carry everything, with Tony citing that he didn't get hot or tired so he could afford to be weighed down.

The engineer wasn't completely wrong, though the heat did affect him. Or well less the heat and more the humidity from the multitude of bodies and the tanks of water surrounding them all. It wasn't anything damaging, but it did slow him down a bit due to the expansion of certain components when faced with conditions like this. It was minute but, for a machine programmed to operate to within a hundredth of a percent error margin, it showed. His gait was a bit stiffer, reflexes dimmed enough that he was liable to drop his sphere had he the desire to even work with it. Which he couldn’t even do thanks to the fact that they were practically packed shoulder to shoulder in the room. To Connor it was the epitome of obnoxious. Beyond that though, it wasn't worth mentioning.

Tony thanked the cashier and ambled back over with minimal shoving some deep fried cinnamon monstrosity clutched in his hand. A cursory scan revealed the full extent of nutritional wince-worthiness but the RK800 wisely kept his mouth shut. It was likely even if he said anything the man would just ignore him or make a show out of eating it anyway. Tony was like Hank that way.

Connor was not confident enough to risk trying even if part of him was wondering why humans insisted on consuming items that were so obviously detrimental to their health. He just chalked it up to one of those things, somewhere next to being self-destructive and not acknowledging one's own mortality.

The engineer seemed to notice Connor's attention on his food and held it up like one did a particularly favorable bounty. "It's an elephant ear. I wonder why the call it that..."

"If I had to guess, I would assume it is due to its size," Connor called, readjusting the bag so it settled more snugly between his shoulders.

"I could see it," Tony nodded thoughtfully as he veered onto one of the more abandoned paths into the topical fish area, leaving the android to trail after him.

"I must ask... Do you ever actually get full or is this the first meal you've had in a few days?" Connor's eyes drifted onto one of the tanks, vibrantly colored fish darting innocuously between plants. Despite their fascinating patterning, most people were drawn to the larger predators. Sharks, whales, dolphins, and seals drew the majority of the attention, leaving the small animals to the wayside. 

"Oh-ho!" Tony chortled. "Someone is being a smart ass."

The human received a few glares from some of the many parents walking by with children. Tony's response was to throw his hands up in the air and dramatically apologize without sounding the least bit regretful.

"Well?" Connor arched a brow, ignoring the antics in favor of watching a school of cloud fish nestle in anemone.

"I'm a snacker. I snack. I can live and breathe on snacks alone. Like I ate a whole two boxes of granola, which is technically a food so there!"

Connor shook his head, not even willing to attempt to explain just on how many levels that was wrong. He resolved instead to take it upon himself to team up with FRIDAY and ensure the man didn't just keel over and die in his lab one day. He actually liked the engineer and didn't want to have to explain to Steve why Tony's corpse went days before discovery. 

In some ways Connor wondered if being here was less about seeing the fish and more about hanging out with someone. Tony himself had seemed not all that interested in the creatures save for stopping to look a particularly exotic fish every once in a while. The rest of the trip was filled with one-sided chatter, the man pointing out various people and making it a game to try and guess their life story.

A few times the RK800 joined in as well, his detective programming practically humming happily at getting to be used. Naturally, given that Connor hooked himself into the world database shortly after having internet access again, he could have all but automatically won any given round. It was for this reason that the android had purposefully disabled the system in order to actually participate in the game. He found it far more fun than simply just looking up the answers, especially since there was no time sensitive assignment occurring in the background.

All in all, the entire thing was relaxing. There was no rush, no need to actually do anything. They just meandered from point A to point B while occasionally stopping along the way and turning Point B to Point C, D, and E. If they grew tired they took a break, or well that mostly applied to Tony.

Connor did notice as the day went on the more progressively tired his human partner became until Tony was all but falling asleep braced against him. It was at this time the android put his foot down and steered the man through the rapidly declining number of people. It was late enough that the earlier crowd had long since vacated, leaving only a few stragglers behind.

He coaxed the man out of the aquarium, into a car, and began the hour long drive back to the compound. All the while Connor reached out to the faint connection of FRIDAY and directed her to order Tony food. As he resolved earlier, he would team up with the AI and make sure Tony had at least one real meal today. Meanwhile the engineer had practically passed out in the front seat and was softly snoring, a small line of drool connect his lips to the upholstery. The sight cause Connor to wrinkle his nose in disgust. Human's and their multitude of fluids. 

They had only been in motion for ten minutes before Tony's snores quieted into steady breaths as the human entered REM. Tony must have been really sleep deprived to be able to fall into such a deep sleep so quickly. Especially with Connor driving. On one hand it meant the man trusted him enough not to care, on another it sent a blare of alarm through the android. He wasn't sure how to handle this sudden unconditional trust and it left him off balance. It was something he hadn't experienced since Hank. 

The sound of a honk had him jerking the wheel back into place, correcting the path of the car from where it had been listing a little too close to the center line. The android silently cursed for letting himself get so distracted. Still, he wasn't sure what to do with this. It may have been trivial but it felt... so... wrong almost. Maybe it was just his own self-consciousness speaking. 

In the end the Connor accepted the fact that he couldn't do anything to prevent the budding friendship developing between the two. All he could do was acknowledge it and do everything in his power to make sure he was worthy of being Tony's friend. Even if he would have to eventually leave. After all, his final goal was to get back to Detroit. For now, though, the android would simply just take things as they were and enjoy the companionship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm far enough ahead that I have decided to settle on an official posting schedule. 
> 
> Keep an eye for updates on Wednesdays and Sundays.


	8. CH 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve held his breath as he waited for a familiar greeting before plunging right on in. "Tony it's me. We got a problem."
> 
> "Yeah, you aren't the only one Cap," Tony grumbled as he walked along the side of the road next to Connor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please ignore all the issues as it is not currently beta-ed and loosely proofread. I still wanted to meet the dead-line but, as I am under the weather today it is still in the raw version. As is the person who normally helps me with the Sunday chapters.
> 
> It should be replaced with the clean version by Wednesday's release.

The sound of trickling water echoed throughout the tighter space, the walkway only an arm-span across. There was a half-flight of stairs leading into the area, leaving Clint no choice but to descend deeper into the water. He fought the urge to grimace as the liquid rose to his navel, leaving him to all but wade through the tunnel. Not for the first time he prayed this stuff was too weak to affect humans as he was now practically swimming in it. 

It's not like he hadn't already been in contact with it for the better part of an hour. At this point there was nothing he could do but keep moving and save any sort of concerns for when he was out of there. 

Slowly the water level began to rise, the floor getting lower and lower until he could hardly even brush the bottom with the balls of his feet. In the end, he gave up trying to walk and instead swam in a desperate bid to keep his face as far away from the dubious fluid as he could. Oddly enough Clint couldn't even count this as the worst thing he'd ever swam in, that award went to an op on Seal Island where the smell of rotting fish and vomit stuck around for weeks. 

Finally the archer reached a series of small rooms, that was thankfully inter-spaced at a higher level than the underground tunnels. Clint was grateful to get out of the water, even as it continued to drip off him and onto the stairs. These were mostly intact, the lack of glowing water forcing him to pull out his flashlight. He'd need to thank Tony for the waterproof coating in his pockets and see if he could come up with something similar for the rest of his uniform. 

Even without the water, the metal light took a few taps before it flared to life, illuminating the labs. Various beakers in states of disarray laid scattered across tables. A massive enclosed shelf system had various faintly glowing mixtures, each label with a series of numbers rather than actual names. That was nothing compared to the massive cracked tank of green liquid shoved in the corner, easily filled with at least 100 gallons of experimental something. 

On it was a clipboard, the paper brown and weather-wrinkled. With careful fingers, he flipped through the information. It appeared to be some type of growth hormone meant to target muscle groups. It wasn't quite an attempt at a true super soldier serum, rather instead it focused entirely on physical enhancement. Like a steroid times fifty that did not adhere to the physical limits of the body. It could essentially cause physical growth outside of normal human parameters indefinitely. The problem with that is that the body could only take so much continuous growth before it broke down. 

Luckily it was benign unless introduced directly to the blood or in natal via consumption by the parent. Which means a lot of these beasties either came in contact while injured or burst through their parents with insane growth in the womb. Clint honestly wasn't sure which one was the more concerning.  

Point was Steve would need to know so they could send someone to clean all this up and prevent it from getting into the wrong hands. 

Just as he went to lift his free hand and re-open a channel to Steve a burst of pain bloomed across his sense as something latched onto his back. With a yell Clint bucked in a desperate attempt to free himself from his captor. There was a thud and a snarl before the weight released him. 

Blood dripped from his shoulders, quickly soaking into the surrounding fabric of his uniform. Distantly he remembered what he had just read about the tainted water and blood, but he currently had bigger things to worry about than some possible side-effects.

The archer spun around, knees bent in preparation to move as he got a good look at his attacker. 

It was a massive hulking form that looked like a fur-less panther crossed with a werewolf, muscles standing out in grotesque contrast with the rest of its body. Putrid acid green eyes stared right at him.

Then it rushed him with a screaming war cry. 

"Oh shit."

[δΟፑፐധΛրε I⊓δT∧БIㄴIτყ]

**▲TONY** **FRIEND** ****  
**▲STEVE** **TRUSTED** ****  
**▲VISION** **FRIEND** ****  
**▲WANDA** **TENSE** ****  
**▲CLINT** **NEUTRAL** **  
** **▲NATASHA** **UNKNOWN**

They were halfway there when a loud thump jolted the car. Connor tapped the breaks to decelerate enough to regain control of the car. The almost deliberate closeness of the previous car on a stretch of near deserted road warned him away from stopping completely. 

The tailing was painfully obvious as the car matched Tony's in speed. 

Connor was gave his full attention to the pursuing vehicle and was able to react in time to avoid another tap of the bumper. The car behind his sped up in tandem with the android, going in for another hit that Connor couldn't quite avoid. 

The car shuddered with the impact, the loud sound of metal crunching into metal yanking Tony awaking. 

"What's going on?" The man sat bolt upright, eyes bright and alert despite having just previously being asleep.

Connor looked over at Tony, the vehicle's speed steadily climbing with each evasive maneuver. 

"We are currently in the process of being run off the road." The gear clicked as he slammed into neutral in time to roll with another impact. "They have been failing so far but they get points for effort." 

Tony seemed to be silently questioning Connor's sanity, but the android didn't care. As high as the stakes were there was something about this that was undoubtedly fun. The engineer seemed to realize this. 

"Okay so you are an adrenaline junky. Cool, good to know, will be more than happy to explore this with you later in a more controlled environment. But right now you kinda need to focus because if we crash at this speed only one of us will get out alive and, spoiler alert, it won't be the human," Tony panicked, fingers white knuckled as they clung to the handle over the door. 

Connor pushed down the bubbly feeling even if he was entirely capable of thinking critically with it. "Do you have FRIDAY loaded into this vehicle?"

"Of course." The engineer snorted. "Who do you take me for? I install her in all my tech."

"That's good. Brace yourself," Connor didn't give Tony a chance to reply before splaying a bare hand over the display. 

Inside he found the traces of FRIDAY, far more faint than in the compound. Following that thread, he hacked into the car’s governor*. With utter determination Connor overrode the max speed and the car jolted closer to the speed actually displayed on the gauge.  

The other vehicle steadily began to lag behind even as the car's human occupant turned ghost white. Just as Connor passed beyond the sight line of their pursuer, he released the gas. Only when the vehicle was going well within the confines of its manufactured speed did the android finally apply the break. 

"That was… well damn." Tony said after a long minute of silence. 

Connor opened his mouth, well aware that he needed to say something or try to comfort Tony. What came out was a low chuckle. 

The human paused, staring stunned at the android before joining in. Both parties sat there, laughing hysterically as the extent of what just happened hit. 

That was until the car wheezed out a complaint and died.

[δΟፑፐധΛրε I⊓δT∧БIㄴIτყ]

Steve sat back in the safe house, monitoring the feeds from his team. As much as he wanted to be out there with them, he understood where Natasha was coming from when she told him to stay back. He was not the most physically inconspicuous and that was without even counting how well known he was by the public. The shield alone helped to identify him on sight. 

Which was why he was spending his time in a support role. It was the least he could to stay involved. Of course there was also an agreement that if any of them got in over their heads he reserved the right to step in. Steve admittedly would not have agreed to the arrangement otherwise. He was ashamed of the fact that he was hoping something that warranted his intervention happened soon. He may or may not have been going a bit stir crazy just sitting around while the others did all the work. 

Currently he was banking on Clint needing aid first. It took everything in him to stand by the archer's judgement when the description of the situation alone left him itching with the urge to extra his teammate. That didn't mean he wasn't religiously checking Hawkeye's channel for any and all alerts. 

Not for the first time he was thankful for the vital-sign monitors Tony had installed into the suits. While they couldn't remotely monitor each other's condition for privacy reasons, it did enable immediate response if the physical parameters dropped below a certain level. What that level was or what constituted it, Steve hadn't the faintest clue. When questioned, the engineer claimed he had a doctor give him a hand with it.

Natasha he knew better than to reach out to. Most of her activity was using done undercover and as such he would be better off leaving her to work in peace unless there was an emergency. 

As for Sam, he tended to go through a civilian front. He wasn't a spy, not exactly, but he also wasn't a heavy hitter. What he did have was a knack with people and a sort of passive perceptiveness that came from his past position with the VA. This made him the perfect person to pursue rumors and get a feel for the thoughts of those in the area. 

It was Sam himself who pointed Natasha toward the compound in Cleveland and warned her that something shady might still be going on. Last Steve checked, Falcon was following a lead to a possible Black Market contact with HYDRA.

It was a vets office where an abnormal amount of animals had been passing through. While they could have been breeders, the exotic nature of the animals lead to it being likely they were sold for experimentation and tests rather than as pets. At least that was Sam's thoughts on the matter, though Steve still couldn't figure out what HYDRA would do with fifty snakes. Clint and Natasha though, they seemed to have a similar idea to Sam. 

Speaking of the devil, Falcon's channel popped up on the screen.

"Hello. Steve speaking. It's good to hear from you." The super soldier answered the second the call connected, his free hand idling tapping on desk. 

_ "Yeah sorry man but this ain't a social call." _ Sam Wilson's voice came across the line at a low rasp, interspersed with pants.  _ "I needed to get outta here yesterday."  _

The chair squeaked as Steve bolted upright, fingers immediately moving on the keys. He was still a bit clumsy with computers, but he could use them well enough. The plastic protested under his rough treatment as he enabled the tracker hidden in the com.  "Talk to me Wilson. What's going on?" 

_ "I stumbled into something I shouldn't have. The office wasn't just a contact, it's an actual base." _ The words we intentionally calm and pitched to be quiet but with an undertone of panic that refused to go away. Steve could picture his friend leaning against the wall trying to look casual while internally freaking out. 

"I thought you were going to leave the actual infiltration to Natasha or Clint." It was an unspoken agreement that Falcon was not ready for that kind of solo work yet. Yes, he was getting there, but Sam wasn't quite at a level where he could handle an entire covert operation by himself. 

_ "Yeah that was the plan until they invaded my house." _ Sam's voice pitched up in hysteria at the end of the sentence.

That... was not good. "Are you safe?" 

_ "I-I think so. Man. I was so not expecting that coming back from a food run." _ Steve swallowed down a faint chuckle. If the paratrooper could still make jokes like that then he was okay. There was no telling how long that would last though, especially if they were able to track down where Sam was staying.

Chances were that HYDRA was already on the man's tail. The soldier was well aware that they were on a time clock. Still, it wouldn't help anything to alarm Sam, who was probably well aware of this fact and trying to downplay the urgency. Steve could afford to indulge his humor and keep him hopeful.

"Just hang tight. We'll get you out of there." It was an unspoken promise. Steve would save Falcon, even if he had to tear HYDRA apart to do it. (A voice that sounded suspiciously like Zola reminded him that he already failed Bucky. Who's to say he wasn't destined to fail again?)

_ "Aye aye. Cap."  _

Steve reluctantly ended the call and moved to contact Clint. Last he heard the archer was busy, but he was the one closest to Falcon. If anyone had a chance of getting Sam out there before HYDRA caught up, it was the king of evasion himself. 

The call connected with faint click and the sound of breathing punctuated by the rhythmic slap of boots on pavement. 

_ "Now is really not a good time!" _ Clint's voice came through the receiver in puffs. A low curse echoed from the other side only to cut off by the bark of gunfire. There was a series of what sounded like bodies slamming into each other in a sort of grappling punctuated by grunts. Finally Hawkeye seemed to disengage with the enemy with a loud thud.  _ "As I said, it is really not a good time!" _

"Clint!?" The noises themselves weren't overtly concerning, sounding much like some sort of fight. What was concerning was the pop-up on the screen showing Clint's vital sensor had been triggered and was currently sending alerts letting him know that the archer was currently losing a good deal of blood.  

The pounding of steps resuming a run was cut out by an impact that sent the com crackling. What sounded like snarls came through the garbled mess as well as Clint's whispered litany of swears. A loud panther's shriek cut straight through the static, leaving Steve's ears ringings. 

"Hawkeye report! What is going on over there!?" The sound of ripping left the super soldier all but vibrating in his seat. Steve wanted nothing more than to throw down his headset and storm over to where Clint was but he knew he would not get there in time. He had no choice but to sit there and pray to God that the seasoned spy would be able to get the upper hand. 

Finally there was a high pitched inhuman whine and the sound of retreating paw steps. Clint didn't seem to take that as a guarantee. There was a flurry of movement follow by the loud slam of a metal. 

_ "O-okay.. what do you need?"  _

"Falcon has been found out and needs an extraction. You are the closest. Though... that was before whatever that was happened," Steve's jaw tightened at his own uselessness, the muscles in his throat standing out against his skin. His knuckles had long turned white from the tight grip he had on the desk. 

_ "Yeah sorry but that is not gonna happen any time soon. With big, mean, and nasty hanging around, I'm more than a little stuck. You'll have to send someone else." _ Clint sounded breathless, his words hitched at the edge with pain.

A cursory look at the display revealed that the archer was in bad shape, blood volume down enough to risk vertigo and the blood oxygen levels low enough to bring about concern toward the state of Clint's lungs. Still, much like with Sam, Steve knew pointing this out would not help the situation. For Clint's sake he would need to get through the conversation as fast as he could. Then he could reach out to Tony and call in reinforcements to evacuate the other two.

"Natasha is still on radio silence."

_ "Weren't you just saying earlier you'd call in Tony? Sorry to say it, but you might actually have to. For both of us. This stuff was nasty even before I was wounded. Now well..." _ A deep intake of air.  _ "This stuff is bloodborne... this part of the building isn't flooded thankfully, but it's all over by clothes, my skin... and who knows what is even on that thing's claws let alone in it's mouth." _

"I.. understand. Stay safe Clint. We'll send someone to you as soon as we can."

_ "Roger that Cap. I'll be here and waiting." _

Steve ended the call and pinched the bridge of his nose before reaching to dial a familiar number. He tactfully ignored the indents left in the wood from his fingers, they had bigger problems than a broken desk. 

He held his breath as he waited for a familiar greeting before plunging right on in. "Tony it's me. We got a problem."

[δΟፑፐധΛրε I⊓δT∧БIㄴIτყ]

"Yeah, you aren't the only one Cap," Tony grumbled as he walked along the side of the road next to Connor. The weather was thankfully mild but it was still cold enough to be uncomfortable walking in without an actual coat.

_ "What happened?"  _ Steve sounded so done the engineer almost felt bad for him. Not completely because unlike Tony, he was in a heated building right now rather than in the middle of nowhere.

"Well we got tailed, almost run off the road, avoided that, and then the car broke down about.. umm.. forty or so miles away from the compound." The entire situation sounded just as ridiculous the second time around. He didn’t have this problem when he was just Iron Man. Actually scratch that he did, they just were usually more courteous to attack him at home or wait until he had his suit. These guys had like zero manners. 

_ "We?"  _

"Me and Connor." Speaking of the android, ever since the car broke down Connor had been oddly silent. Granted the android wasn’t the most talkative person out there unless engaged in a conversation. 

Tony brought it up once in jest and the poor kid looked almost startled at the realization. Apparently according to Connor, his previous partner couldn’t get him to shut up. Which yeah, it could just be because of the different situation or maybe this Hank character had like no chill and exaggerated with his bitching. So far the android had displayed some curiosity but hasn't 'followed Tony around like a poodle constantly asking questions'.

_ "Well you better get yourself sorted out. Clint's down and Falcon's cover was compromised. Both need an extraction ASAP."  _ Steve, to his credit, we just accepting the situation and rolling on with it. Which yeah, the soldier had to given what was going on but still brownie points were mentally awarded.

Meanwhile Tony checked his watch, monitoring the two incoming dots. "Already on it. Just wait for my suits to show up which should be right… about… now."

His words were punctuated by a red and gold set of armor descending in from of him. It was shortly followed by a completely silver one.

"Me and Connor will start heading your way. Call the Compound for me and direction Vision and Wanda toward Clint." Tony was well aware both parties could work together if they absolutely had to, but he'd rather not risk any tensions. Wanda was, well practically still a teenager and acted like it. 

Still, she managed to set off the usually placid Connor. Given that the android, from what he told Tony, was still very much adjusting to emotions and the like putting the two together was a recipe for drama. And they had enough problems without adding extraneous drama to the mix.

_ “Do I even want to ask what happened?”  _ Steve seemed to pick up the unspoken warning in the engineer’s tone. Good. That meant he’d know to keep an eye out when the two groups inevitably joined back up. 

“Nope.” Tony popped the p, eager to be done with the call now that he had a gameplan. And part of it also may have had to do with his interest in seeing Connor’s reaction. Sure enough, out of the corner of his eye the android was examining the suits with what seemed to be the interest. 

_ “I will see you when you get here then. Just Tony, please hurry.” _

“See you soon.” Tony ended the call and clapped his hands together with a flourish to draw Connor’s full attention.

“Change of plans. Normally I’d give this the fanfair it deserves and take full joy out of the overwhelmed look on your face, but we are on a tight schedule. The silver is your’s. Not to own, but I’m lending it. Didn’t exactly feel like carrying you 40 miles. Good thing too, since now we have to go a lot farther.” The genius explained before finally taking a breath. “Any burning questions? And try to make it quick. We have to leave pronto.” 

Connor’s face screwed up in what Tony had taken to fondly considering ‘Bitch-Face 3 aka What the fuck is wrong with you?’. It was a common enough expression used when interacting with the engineer, that it was only a matter of time before the android had developed his own variation of it. “I don’t know how to work it…” 

“Easy. You’re a machine, it’s a machine run by FRIDAY. Just work the same magic you did in the car and boom. Unless you think you can’t do it,” Okay so even Tony was willing to acknowledge he was being a bit of a dick. He had every intention of giving an in depth tutorial when he first called the extra suit.

Sadly, time constraints and all that jazz made Tony have to throw off the kid gloves. That meant no extra time comforting the android with the whole flying thing and providing assurances that it was completely safe. 

“I mean I can but… you don’t mean that we are flying there in these-” Naturally that was the main thing the android latched onto, which surprised a total of no-one. 

“Yep. Now q&a time is done. Time to kick some ass and take some names. So suit up!”

Connor, bless his heart, still looked incredibly disconcerted by the entire thing but seemed to accept this as something that would be happening. Ah they grew up so fast. 

And, with one quick reassuring smile thrown at the retreating back of his companion, Tony turned to approach his own suit.


	9. CH 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I think I found a way to track them,"Connor pitched his voice purposefully to be heard over the two loud men.
> 
> Tony was the first to break off from the argument and made it a point to wander over to Connor's side and drape an arm across the android's shoulders. "See Rogers? Everything will be alright."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry but this one is messy too. I'll clean it up Friday unless anyone else wants to?  
> Work is work... >.<

The sound of crickets buzzed throughout the cool night air as the pair approached the derelict building. A tree twice the size of the building itself stuck out of one half, leaves obscuring part of the sky. A few more trees peaked out through various holes in the concrete, none quite so grand as the first but still far more impressive than any tree that young should ever be.

Vision was inhumanly still at Wanda's side, his yellow eyes tracking something she herself could not see. It didn't bother her all that much, her entire attention overwhelmed with the foreign climate. It was so different from both Sokovia and New York and that was even without the mutations that Steve had warned about. It was warmer and far more humid, the air thick with moisture that made it feel as though she was swimming simply by walking through it.

Clint had already thankfully cleared the entryway, the rusted door pried open enough for the team to slip through. Wanda walked slowly in an effort to make the least amount of noise, aware of a few massive sets of eyes watching from the shadows. Vision didn't have the same problem, just languidly passing through obstacles. Nor did he seem that disturbed.

"They are just herbivores. It is likely they are far more scared of you than you are of them," he assured he as he lead the way, his own eyes faintly illuminated by an internal light.

Wanda nodded as a small ball of red energy was lit on her fingertips to provide some degree of better visibility for her weaker human eyes. Vision sent her one final look before veering off, floating forward on a path only he seemed to see.

"Where are you going?" Wanda finally asked when her partner was far enough to only barely be illuminated by the mystic glow.

"I am following Clint's footprints." Vision explained softly as he bent over to get a better look at the trail. "They are faint but still legible enough to provide a path. We would do good to retrace his steps rather than wander around given his supposed injuries."

The witch tilted her head questioningly. While what he said made perfect since, she had never seen the other do something like this, let alone display the capability.

"I picked it up from Connor," he answered her unspoken question. Wanda nodded and allowed Vision to lead the way as she followed close behind, using her powers to move the occasional bit of rubble from her path.

She honestly didn't know what to think of the other android. On one hand she was glad he could provide Vision with a level of understanding she herself was incapable of. On another, she couldn't help a stab of envy at the easy camaraderie between the two. It was something the woman herself had been unable to have ever since the death of Pietro.

Her Mama had always said she was lucky to be a twin. Best friends from the womb, a companion so close no other relationship would ever compare. Wanda was the first to admit that she took it for granted. And, when she no longer had that unwavering support, she just about shattered. Vision was there to swoop in and pick up  the pieces. It had left Wanda all but reliant on the other, something he had expressed concern about on a few occasions. Maybe that was why he was so desperate to share Connor's support with her. So she would have someone more than just him in her immediate support network.

True she did have Clint, Tony, Steve, and Natasha but she couldn't bring herself to embrace them as fully as she did Vision. They may have forgiven her for what she had done, but she still didn't forgive herself. As a result Wanda held the others somewhat at arms length, only fully confiding in Vision.

Even as the silver and red android was eager to share with Wanda, the woman was well aware of the personal nature of the information. She should have stopped him,  informed Vision of the social error he was making. But the selfish part of her that craved the easy understanding she once had kept silent and absorbed what she was learning. Maybe Connor could help her learn how to move on because she was having no luck on her own.

Then, when the time came to speak with Connor, her jealousy reared its head at how utterly unaffected he seemed. He was supposedly in just as precarious a situation as she was, made to hunt his own kind before changing allegiance at the last minute. Yet he didn't seem as torn up about it as she was. It left her questioning if he would even understand her own views. So, like many other things in her life, Wanda sabotaged herself with her own impulsiveness.

The two finally reached the stairs leading to the floors below. Despite her best efforts, Wanda's footsteps slapped loudly against the pavement as she descended after the billowing figure before her.  The distant mournful how of coyotes made her jump but Vision was quick to steady her before she could tip down the stairs. Her heart hammered loudly in her breast as she struggled to get her breathing back under control.

After three minutes of walking they reached the bottom few steps into what looked to be a shallow glowing river. It was both beautiful and disconcerting with the rhythmic pulse of light against the walls.

Along the edge and peaking through the water was a group of corpses, massive rats with arrows through their heads. It was likely Clint had been cornered the second he came down.

The pair continued to follow the likely path of the archer, the occasional dead mutated creature assuring them they were going the right way. It was slow going, no matter how much both wanted to say 'screw it' and rush toward Hawkeye's side. It was only the warning of the vicious beat Steve overhead that kept them valuing discretion over speed.

Finally they got to the stretch where the water grew deep enough to swim. Vision began to float across, Wanda following after. It took a great deal of concentration to keep herself steadily above the water with her powers. It was a balancing act to levitate without slamming herself into the ceiling.

It was a great relief when they finally reached dry ground only for the emotion to fade away as soon as it appeared. For, marking right in front of the top of the stairs, was a smear of red blood that lead into a set of inhuman tracks.

Wanda swallowed hard even as Vision moved protectively in front of her as they followed the tracks. The witch's lips moved soundlessly all the while, uttering prayers she hadn't said since she was a child. Even if she didn't believe in God, she was willing to do something so silly as to reach out to a hypothetical higher power if it meant Clint might be safe.

She genuinely liked the man. Despite Hawkeye's nature as a spy, he was easily one of the most emotionally open people she had ever interacted with aside from her brother. It was no surprise Pietro like the man, to the point of sacrificing himself to save the archer. When the battle ended, Clint had gone right up to Wanda. He didn't offer empty apologies or platitudes.

"There is nothing I can say to make this okay," was what he had said. The two had ended up spending the night crying together, mourning the boy who lost his life far too young.

Even after that Clint still regularly talked to Wanda. She had assumed he'd avoid her and the reminder of what had happened. That's what should would have done. Instead he had faced it head on and made an effort to give Wanda a chance to be the kid she never got to.

Natasha didn't seem at all surprised when Wanda had approached the woman about it one day. The Black Widow just smiled and said that's simply how Clint was. He was a good man even if he didn't entirely believe it.

The loud unnatural scream echoed through the corridor, punctuated by the sound of claws on metal. Both tense, the scarlet energy in Wanda's hand crackling even as the Mind Stone flared with untold power.

The two rounded the corner and came face to face with something Wanda could only describe as a drekavac. It was a disturbing amalgamation of beast and man, its cries enough to chill the marrow of bones. The superstitious part of her that grew up in Sokovia with old fables sought to draw back lest its shadow fall upon her and herald her death.

It was only the knowledge that this was likely some poor mutated creature and the fact that it was blocking their way to Clint that kept her standing strong. The creature was the first to act, rushing Vision with a snarl. That snarl quickly turned into a keen as the android blasted it. Wanda was quick to follow up, slamming the drekavac hard enough into the wall to break its neck and put it out of its misery.

The now-free door was covered in scratches and blood both teal and red. Vision went first, phasing through the doorway and the subsequent bullet that impacted the door with a metallic clang. The door opened to admit Wanda and revealed Clint to her view.

The man looked rough. His uniform stuck to his skin, wet with not only the tainted water but also blood and sweat. His face was pale, hair sticking to it and his eyes glassy with pain and possible fever. Wanda could hear his breathing from where she was, fast and wheezing.

The witch was quickly by his side, tapping his lolling face and whispering assurances even as Vision swiftly scooped the archer into his arms.

"Do not worry. He will be alright," The android assured. Wanda wished she had his optimism.

"I hope you are right."

[δΟፑፐധΛրε I⊓δT∧БIㄴIτყ]

 **▲TONY** **FRIEND** ****  
**▲STEVE** **TRUSTED** ****  
**▲VISION** **FRIEND** ****  
**▲WANDA** **TENSE** ****  
**▲CLINT** **NEUTRAL** **  
** **▲NATASHA** **UNKNOWN**

Connor's gyroscope was still struggling to recalibrate after the flight. He still had yet to settle on his opinion of it. It was both exhilarating and utterly terrifying. Steve had called them while they were on their way and informed them at the loss of contact and transmission from Sam's com. The meet-up location changed from the monitoring station to the last location they had for Falcon.

Steve somehow had been already there and waiting when the two touched down. No sooner than Tony exited the suit was the larger man approaching. "What took you so long?"

"I told you we got stranded. You knew this Cap," Tony shot back, the suit folding into a convenient case.

"What were you doing away from the compound at a time like this?" Steve retorted. The man had seemed far more harried than during the initial call. Sam vanishing seemed to have negatively impacted him.

"It didn't seem to bother you earlier."

"Well that was before Sam was taken while I was waiting for you!" What was supposed to be a greeting was quickly becoming heated. Connor watched from the sidelines, unsure if he should step in or just let it run its course. Steve wasn’t being fair, but the android understood where he was coming from. All the same though arguing wouldn’t help the situation. If anything it would make matters worse.

"How is that my fault!? Instead of blaming me you should be worrying more about getting him back!" Tony was getting just as agitated, his usual relaxed demeanour abandoned as he defended himself.

The RK800 picked this moment to slip away and use the chance to investigate the scene. The com unit had been found smashed on the ground in the juncture between two adjacent buildings in a back walkway. The world clicked into a monochromatic blue as he cycled on his scanning function, algorithms processing information and illuminating points of interest in his HUD.

**▲SCUFF MARKS SIZE 9**

**SAM’S?**

Connor leaned down to the wall, faint imprints left by sliding polymer and some traces of mud. Luckily there appeared to be a solid enough mark to determine the likely size and tread style. Below that and roughly six inches forward were a few drops of blood that still were wet enough to sample. His index and forefinger swiped through one of the larger clusters.

**▲ BlOOD TYPE A+**

**SOURCE SAMUEL WILSON [CRIMINAL RECORD REDACTED]**

**TRACES OF INORGANIC SALTS, ANTISEPTIC ENZYMES, IMMUNOGLOBULINS, AND GLYCOPROTEINS [MUCUS]**

His pre-construction software kicked in displaying the most likely course of events. A wire frame of a man leaned against the wall only to get cornered by at least one other. The wire frame that was likely Sam was spun around and shoved toward the wall only to catch himself using one of his free legs. Sam pushed back into the restraining figure and cracked his head back into the assailants face. The other man socked Sam in the gut, causing the smaller man to stumble, only to follow up with a blow to the nose.

The current world blinked back into focus, Connor's LED sliding smoothly back to blue as he walked over to where the assailant stood. Sure enough a different set of blood drops were there. The RK800 repeated the previous process. Sanitation fluid flooded his mouth, washing away any past samples before he began to process the new set.

▲ **BLOOD TYPE A+**

**SOURCE MATTHEW HARVEY [CRIMINAL RECORD: ARSON, ASSAULT, VANDALISM, POSSESSION OF AN UNREGISTERED FIREARM, AND DRUG POSSESSION]**

A small metallic gleam drew his gaze. Connor made his way over to get a better look at it. It was the tip of what appeared to be a hypodermic needle. Just as he lifted the edge to his tongue Tony seemed to notice what the android was doing.

"Woah woah woah. Do _not_ put that in your mouth. And you put it in your mouth anyway. Seriously!? Just why!?" the engineer's voice hit a shrill note as shock and disgust warred for dominance.

"What are you doing?" Tony's panic drew Steve's attention as well, the man's stopping mid rant to blink owlishly at Connor.

Connor gingerly removed the needle from his tongue, his sensors immediately working to break down the components of the trace fluids. He ignored the still-gaping genius and his puzzled side-kick in favor of setting the piece of evidence back into its proper location. Finally his forensics programming pinged back a result.

▲ **74% GAMMA-HYDROXYBUTYRIC ACID [COLLOQUIAL NAME LIQUID ECSTASY]**

**26% HYDROGEN DIOXIDE**

**DOSE UNKNOWN**

That meant Sam was drugged. The reconstruction jolted to life to continue the most likely scenario. The smaller frame of Falcon had ended up on his hands and knees after the punch. The assailant likely went to continue before a second person stepped forward with the needle.

The paratrooper was unable to fight back as the drug entered his veins. Given the purity of the dose, it was likely it only took a few minutes for the vertigo to hit. At that time the kidnappers could easily lift him.

But they would need a vehicle. Bystanders may tend to mind their own business but they wouldn’t be blind to a man being carried out of an alleyway.

Connor  followed the faint trail of blood droplets to the opposite end, ignoring Tony still trying to get his attention.

“Serious Connor? What are you doing?” One would think the man that read his schematics would know exactly what the android was doing. Apparently it either slipped Tony’s mind or the human was just that special kind clueless. The RK800 would love to explain himself, but Steve was right. Time was of the essence.

Tony could forgive him later.

Sure enough the alleyway opened up into back parking area likely used for deliveries. It was moments like this that the wet environment was helpful, the patch of mud near the curb retaining tracks. The wetness of the ground meant the tracks were likely fresh, the soil solid but malleable enough to avoid cracks.

 **▲** **265/65R18 TREAD**

**2016 CHEVROLET SUBURBAN OFF ROAD EDITION**

It fit the likely vehicle. It was normal enough to blend in but large enough to transport multiple people, including someone tied up in the back. Chances were that they were looking for a dark colored model, given human’s propensity to associate discrete with black.

All that was well and good but he still needed a more solid lead. They couldn’t just go tracking every black 2016 chevrolet vehicle in the area. A starting point would go a long way.

What he needed was a picture. One clear enough that he could deduce the direction of the vehicle and, if he was lucky, the license plate.

Naturally the cameras in the most immediate area were fried. The wonderful thing about humans though was their ability to make mistakes when overconfident. Connor sent out a ping to all nearby electronics and sure enough there was a lone forgotten traffic camera up against a nearby street light on the road attached to the parkway.

All in all, with the material evidence left behind, these guys were sloppy. Any detective worth his salt could figure them out. In their defense, their few actions to cover their tracks would have been effective if Connor wasn't present. After all, HYDRA was used to dealing with the Avengers who obviously weren't well versed in the intricacies of data gathering.

**▲SPD TRAFFIC CAMERA**

**INSTALLED DUE TO FREQUENCY OF SPEEDING ON BRANCH STREET BETWEEN SAINT MICHAEL ST AND MICHAUD BLVD.**

Connor's LED pulsed yellow as he interfaced with the camera. Sure enough it picked up a vehicle matching the description given by the clues. The license plate came up as belonging to Scott Sanders. Either he was apart of HYDRA or, more likely, he was killed and had his vehicle appropriated post-mortem.

In the end, what mattered was that with the plate number Connor could track the vehicle.

"I think I found a way to track them,"Connor pitched his voice purposefully to be heard over the two loud men.

Tony was the first to break off from the argument and made it a point to wander over to Connor's side and drape an arm across the android's shoulders. "See Rogers? Everything will be alright."

Connor was not fooled by the faux flippancy. He could see the unspoken stress tightening at the corner of Tony's eyes. It was something Steve would normally have seen himself had his own stress not blinded him.

"Now is not the time to joke around Stark." Steve snapped back before turning to Connor. "What do you mean you think you found a way to track them? How?"

Steve looked desperate, his knuckles white and jaw clenched with restrained emotion. Any sort of comfort the android offered would be useless. Only information would soothe the other.

"Yes. I was able to identify the vehicle and am currently tracking it through traffic cameras. And yes, Tony, I am aware FRIDAY could have used cameras in order to deduce the most likely vehicle, but we do not have the time to weed out possible locations. In a kidnapping and likely hostage situation every second counts." Connor calmly cut Tony off before he could even open his mouth. The engineer just shook his head and mumbled something about being replaced. "Sam also appears to have been drugged with an enhanced dose of liquid ecstasy. As a result, depending on his metabolism and the possibility of further doses, we will be carrying him out."

Steve looked positively radiant despite the knowledge that his partner was indisposed, his eyes blazing with a determined light. "If they went to the trouble to drug him that means he will still be alive. We need to hurry. Tony with me. Connor you lead the way."

[δΟፑፐധΛրε I⊓δT∧БIㄴIτყ]

It was almost child's play to slip in once she had a plan. Her red hair hung a limp temporary brown pulled back in a ponytail. A set of contacts muddled her distinctive green eyes to a dull olive and just the right make-up obscured her foreign pointed features. She went from exotic beauty to a plain-jane everyday girl. This helped her slip into the guards which were thankfully co-ed.

As much as HYDRA favored old white men, they didn't entirely discount the power of a woman. Which worked to Natasha's advantage.

Simply wearing the uniform opened a lot of doors, whether or not the badge used actually belonged to someone of her appearance. Granted, the scrambler was still in effect so she couldn't judge them too harshly for not noticing.

The Black Widow purposefully left a tail to the wrong location. In the even that they finally caught on, they would go the wrong way first. Meanwhile Natasha would instead approach her target from the vents.

This time there was no pause as she landed lightly on the floor of the store-room. The door was pulled open as she immediately made her way to the server room. This was where some creativity came into play. The plan was the easy part. What had taken most of the extra day was obtaining what she needed.

From her pants pocket, Natasha retrieved the eye. The poor donor hadn't exactly survived the liaison with the Widow but well, she didn't like child traffickers. No one worthwhile would miss that particular piece of trash and, if they just so happened to push the issue they could join him.

She even got the pin code from him though it took a great deal of extra... persuasion. Sure enough the pain had left the poor man unable to lie and the panel turned bright green. The eye was also happily accepted and she was able to proceed.

(The entire eye-trick Clint used for Loki he had learned from Natasha. The woman would almost have been proud if not for the circumstances.)

Sadly that was the full extent of the security. Once she got inside, the server room was fully devoid of guards. They were so arrogant and sure of the measures they put in place the internal terminal was only locked by a measly username and password. All she had to do was plug in her drive and the computer opened, all the files immediately beginning to copy onto it.

Natasha was not idle during this, looking up files on their new resident. Naturally it was listed under the model name of RK800. What she found was a mess of specs only Tony could truly hope to make sense of. The spy was many things, a scientist was not one of them.

After a few more pages ranging from mechanics to schematics to programming she finally found what she was looking for. Personal Logs. Often overlooked in favor of more concrete notes and plans, Natasha was one of the few who saw what a hidden trove of information could be found in the most innocuous of places. Clint had taught her to seek out anything, most of all the accounts of grunts. As he said, "The little guys always had the biggest mouths."

She was ashamed to admit she had originally scoffed but Natasha had since learned the error of her ways.

_We recovered the unit. There is significant damage synonymous with a gunshot. The hole between the eyes and the splinted bullet found in the main processors proved it. The Head Technician is certain it can be fixed._

_We have located a hidden drive that appears to be some kind of backup. We are removing it to see if we can access it._

_We were successful at accessing it! The entire code was perfecting preserved! What's more we located something else, an entire separate AI intrinsically tied into the android's own! We will see if we can establish contact with it and restore the android!_

_Men with guns and suits showed up at our lab. We were given a 'choice' to leave if we weren't okay with the new management. The first poor guy to take the offer was killed right out. The rest of us quickly learned our lesson. One of their programmers started working with me. I've managed to keep them from changing anything. Thankfully the android's code is complex enough to resist most of the tampering on its own. I know if they find out they will kill me, but I have long since realized my life has been forfeit since the moment they showed up._

_We replaced the central processor today. I'm in charge of monitoring the re-integration of data from the back-up unit. My 'Partner' was finally able to make some headway with whatever their goal is. I know our usefulness is running out. I will see what I can do to sabotage them. If nothing else, I refuse to go down without fucking them over first._


	10. CH 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Guess this is where we part ways,” Tony couldn’t help but internally wince at the almost pathetically somber note in his tone. Being somber was Steve’s job. The engineer just couldn’t deny the wave of foreboding. Something was somehow going to go really really wrong. He just knew it. This was an Avengers op after all. Nothing ever went right in one of those. 
> 
> “Yes. Don’t worry. We will remain radio contact. Just focus on finding Sam. We’ll be alright,” Steve seemed to push away enough of his lingering bitchiness to pick up on the mood and paste on a reassuring smile. It was almost painfully fake, but it was the thought that counted. “If we find nothing we will meet back here, alright?” 
> 
> “Yeah. Don’t worry your pretty little head. We’ll find the birdy and if not, we’ll just move on and keep looking.” Tony’s returning smirk was just as bullshit, but neither brought it up. Well Connor looked like he wanted to until he just thankfully seemed to accept this as being some kind of weird human thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's a day late. I spent most of yesterday car shopping so I didn't get a chance to finish the chapter. As it is, due to it already being late I haven't had a chance to read over it. I apologize ahead of time for any errors you run into.

The trail lead to a pretty original location in Tony’s humble opinion. The building was abandoned, true, but it wasn’t like a warehouse or anything. In fact it was what looked to be one of those old malls, the entire area dark due to lack of electricity. Tony hadn’t ever actually been to one, he tended to only shop at individual stores or order online, but he drove past them plus there was such a thing as TV.

There was no sign of the vehicle but they didn’t expect there to be. Connor was leading the way, that little light on the edge of his head pulsing a lazy yellow. Tony had forgotten the android had lost his hat during the car chase. Blending in was the last thing on his mind. Granted more stares would probably be earned by his suit than the resident robo-man.

Now there was no one else to watch surprisingly. Tony had expected some kind of welcoming party. It was oddly dead, no sign of guards or any sort of activity. If it wasn't for how much it fit the MO of a typical kidnapping location, it would have been written off entirely.

“Are you sure this is the place?” Steve was the first to speak, bringing up the very thing Tony had just noticed.

“Yes. This is where the car pulled in before I lost sight of it on the cameras. Even if they are not present, I may be able to pick up a trail from here,” Connor spoke matter-of-fact, his eyes scanning over the surroundings.

Tony had to admit the android was pretty impressive. FRIDAY may have been able to uncover similar enough information with enough work, but only if Tony thought about it. For all that he loved his interface, things just weren’t the same since JARVIS. The previous AI always had a sort of autonomy FRIDAY seemed to lack. JARVIS would do things simply because he felt the need, while FRIDAY only acted when Tony implied or actively requested something.

The engineer wasn’t afraid to admit that the scientist part of him wanted to completely take the android a part and see how it ticked. He was able to ignore that part, but it came roaring back to the forefront with every display of abilities.

"Is it just me or is this painfully cliche?" Tony commented lightly, even as every part of him was on high alert. This was either the easiest thing in the world or it just screamed trap. And, as much as Tony wished it was the first, logic and experience told him it was the second.

Steve ignored the engineer even as he stormed to the door and wrenched it open with a squeal of ungreased hinges. Connor flinched and rubbed at the shell of his ears, the sensitive android hearing likely protesting the noise. The super soldier should very well have been feeling it too, but he didn't show it. The captain was a man on a mission, something that was both helpful and incredibly dangerous when it happened.

Tony and Connor exchanged looks, the incline of the other's head showing that the android knew exactly what Tony was saying without speaking. They would keep an eye on Steve and make sure he didn't completely toss out self preservation. It would be a thankless task, but no one else would do it. That settled, Iron Man flipped down his face-plate and followed the other two into the building with a flare of light from a shoulder-mounted spotlight.

The light gleamed off of the metal fixing on Connor's suit. It had taken frankly more fighting than Tony had though to get the android to agree to wear it again. Tony fought the urge to pout at the memory of the adamant protests. In the end the two ended up coming to a compromise,  Connor would wear the bullet-proof under-suit only, as much as it still boggled the engineer. Most people would give anything to use an Iron Man suit and here this android was against continuing to use it.

The inside of the building was about what was expected. The floor was littered with various pieces of glass and trash, the signs of teenage activity blatant there with all the graffiti and beer cans. As few areas were even soot-stained by some person or another deciding to use the building against the elements and light fires.

“There are no signs of recent activity,” Connor reported dutifully. “There are no lingering blood trails and nothing has been disturbed from its position beyond expected parameters.”  

“And what are the ‘expected parameters’?” Tony had to ask, thankful for the opportunity to banter. As much as he understood this was a serious Situation with a capital S, the doure atmosphere left him uncomfortable.

“Winter, weather, and rodents. I believe you humans like to refer to it as acts of God,” Connor, bless his little metal heart, snarked back. Tony could practically kiss the android if he wasn’t genuinely concerned about losing teeth over it. He saw the footage from FRIDAY. He knew the brunette could pack a punch.

“Do you even believe in God?” Hello morbid curiosity. My name is Tony Stark.

“I am an incredibly advanced machine governed by a state of the art AI Engine.”

“So that’s a no?” Steve’s pissy expression screamed for the engineer to shut up and take this seriously. On the contrary, Tony was completely serious. He just didn’t see the point in freaking out externally. “Or do you have like an android jesus or something?”

Connor rolled his eyes in response and Tony felt almost proud. This here was his influence. Not the sassing, no that seemed to be all Connor, but the exaggerated gestures were a 100% Stark Trademark.

“Can you two please stay focused?” Steve cut in to absolutely no one’s surprise.

“I have the ability of maintaining multiple surface processes,” Connor scoffed, looking almost pissy at the unspoke insignuation of him not focusing. Tony found it glorious.

The super soldier seemed to realized he was outmatched, at least when it came to a machine that most people knew next to nothing of the inner workings of, let alone a guy from the 40s. Instead Steve swallowed his pride, coming to the correct conclusion not to piss off the person who had the best chance of locating Sam quickly. “What do you suggest then? Should we just keep moving forward and hope we run into them? Or look elsewhere?”

Connor paused, head tilted as he seemed to debate the question. Tony was almost positive if he had a monitor hooked up to the android he would be seeing countless algorithms passing through a series of complex functions at a speed that disorientate even the genius.

“It is completely possible they entered from a different location. I would suggest we continue to the center and split up from there.” the RK800 nodded to himself before continuing on. “The blueprints show it to be multi-leveled, the size rather impressive for such a small city. One group could move to the top and work their way down, while the other could start from the bottom and work up.”

“I got up. You two can do the bottom,” Tony called first. He was well aware that there was the highest likelihood of the enemy being at the bottom, which was why the group of two could go there. Still the top was worth a look on the off chance the enemy decided to mix things up. It was unlikely, but still worth pursuing just for the sake of being thorough.

All in all, it was a good plan. Naturally, Steve had the final say and chose to question things in his single-minded desire to just go. “Why don’t we all split up? I am more than capable of handling things myself.”

“I imagine it is because you do not possess any sort of information gathering or infiltration skill set, nor a scanning capability to supplement it,” Connor intoned dryingly, his attention flickering beyond the two.

“I have infiltrated my own share of HYDRA bases and have recovered information from them in the past,” Tony had to fight the desire to snort, earning a reproachful look from the captain.

“Most of your experience is from the 40s. No offense Cap, but technology has come a long way. And- before you point out your modern day exploits- all the bases have either been abandoned or with the aid of our resident Spider,” the engineer almost felt bad about using this chance to make fun of Steve. Almost.

As wonderful as their fearless leader was, Tony would be the first to call Steve out on not having the greatest grasp on reality. Maybe it was all the hero worship having gone to his head, or maybe it was just pure naivety. Either way the super soldier had the worst habit of over-estimating himself and his own capabilities. Not that it was all that surprising. Being told you were the peak of the human condition enough times would make anyone at least a little arrogant.

Tony shuttered as another thought came to mind. Yeah, no thank you brain. He did not want.

“What?” Steve grouched, still smarting from the comment.

“Just thinking about how lucky we are Thor isn’t here,”

The blonde looked quizzical for a split second before shrugging off the nonsequenter. Connor didn’t have the luxury of the learned response and was not afraid to ask questions. “Who?”

“You don’t want to know. Just think of the loudest, most boisterous person you know and multiply that by ten. Then you have maybe a fraction of Thor,”

The wince alone proved Tony had the single best analogy for Thor.

The group lapsed into a comfortable silence after that, punctuated only by footsteps and the occasional quiet remark. The more they walked, the more overwhelmed the part felt. Flanking the sides of the hall were various doorways boarded up or closed by those little pull down security grates.

A few of the store-fronts had broken windows and obvious signs of entry. They were ignored in favor of finding the center and branching out from there. They didn’t have the time to waste on unstructured searching, even if Connor did stop to give each broken window a courtesy scan along the way.

They finally reached the atrium, a massive opening allowing people to see the various floors. Stairs and broken down escalators lead from level to level, highlighting the dust motes dancing in the dim dirty light shining from the cracked skylights. A standing map showed any who passed by the full layout of the abandoned mall.

“Guess this is where we part ways,” Tony couldn’t help but internally wince at the almost pathetically somber note in his tone. Being somber was Steve’s job. The engineer just couldn’t deny the wave of foreboding. Something was somehow going to go really really wrong. He just knew it. This was an Avengers op after all. Nothing ever went right in one of those.

“Yes. Don’t worry. We will remain radio contact. Just focus on finding Sam. We’ll be alright,” Steve seemed to push away enough of his lingering bitchiness to pick up on the mood and paste on a reassuring smile. It was almost painfully fake, but it was the thought that counted. “If we find nothing we will meet back here, alright?”

“Yeah. Don’t worry your pretty little head. We’ll find the birdy and if not, we’ll just move on and keep looking.” Tony’s returning smirk was just as bullshit, but neither brought it up. Well Connor looked like he wanted to until he just thankfully seemed to accept this as being some kind of weird human thing.

The three looked between each other, expressions saying more than words, before Tony wordlessly went his own way. He just had to hope Connor could keep Steve from doing anything too stupid if it came down to it.

[δΟፑፐധΛրε I⊓δT∧БIㄴIτყ]

Clint was almost too pale against the white sheets, strapped as he was to the gurney in the quinjet. The medic had quickly moved to start a main line the second Vision had appeared at the ramp with the unconscious archer in tow.

The would not be able to run a full diagnosis until they got back to the tower. Wanda had thankfully had the forethought to recover a small bottle of the tainted water to test as well. With any luck, the dose was too small to have any lasting effects on the man. If they weren’t so lucky, at least with a sample they may be able to neutralize the compound.

Vision stood next to the bed, Wanda folded onto a seat next to it with her hands gripping one of Clint’s own. The android felt helpless in this situation, a sensation he was unused to.  From the moment he came to life, Vision had been capable. This, though, was beyond his combat abilities.

“Sit down,” Wanda murmured from her place. “Your hovering is worrying.”

“I’m sorry… I find myself at a loss in this situation,” Vision admitted, being sure not to maintain too much eye contact. Humans found it unnerving.

“It’s frustrating isn’t it? For all these powers… in the end all I can do is wait,” She sounded almost bitter as she spoke, her gentle fingers rubbing soothing circles into Clint’s too-pale skin.

He swallowed ineffectually, hot shame and regret bubbling in his chest. Wanda was right, as always. That didn’t make things any better. On the contrary it only made him feel worse.

Gray eyes drew his own yellow, Scarlet Witch’s expression softening with understanding.

“Go on ahead. I will look after Clint.” A small secretive smile curled at the edges of her lips, a hint of _something_ Vision wished Wanda would share with more than just him.

Still he had to ask. “Are you sure?”

“I am positive. There is nothing you can do here to help, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t others who need your help. I’ll catch up, I promise.”

Vision managed an unsteady nod, only moving to leave when Wanda shooed him away with the flap of a hand. He didn’t like the idea of leaving her behind to handle this on her own, but she was right. There were still people out there who needed his help.

Later he would come to wonder whether or not there was something else at play with her insistence, some form of unspoken clairvoyance. But by that time it would be too late to change anything.

[δΟፑፐധΛրε I⊓δT∧БIㄴIτყ]

**▲TONY** **FRIEND** **  
** **▲STEVE** **TRUSTED** **  
** **▲VISION** **FRIEND** **  
** **▲WANDA** **TENSE** **  
** **▲CLINT** **NEUTRAL** **  
** **▲NATASHA** **UNKNOWN**

Without Tony present, Connor felt no reason to break through the silence. Steve, armed with a flashlight he recovered from one of the defunct kiosks, lead the way through the winding halls of the lower levels. Like the android had mentioned, they were starting from the bottom and working their way up.

The two were in what appeared to be some sort of maintenance area, the shop fronts having given way to doorways and rooms of excess merchandise. A few that proved to be locked were quickly smashed in by a solid kick by steve. All the while Connor trailed off, scanning his surroundings in a bid to help track any sort of movement.

The presence of dust was greatly lacking, meaning this area had been recently accessed. But by who, and for what purpose Connor did not know. The android wasn’t one to jump straight to conclusions and couldn’t guarantee without a shred of doubt that the trail was from who they were pursuing. So he kept his mouth shut.

The team rounded yet another corner and came face to face with a partial lifted garage door. The two exchanged a glance before Steve went first, Connor following shortly after him.

What greeted them were rows upon rows of humanoid shapes in various states of dress. Mannequin storage.

Connor tilted his head as he studied the one closest to him. If this was what android in standby looked like to humans, no wonder they were found to be creepy. The sight had even sent him into a state of uneasiness, phantom tingles running along his synthetic nerves.

He blinked as the entire room seemed to throb out of focus, a faint buzz of static thrumming through his audio processors. Two sets of images overlapped, the storage room blending with his memories of Cyberlife Tower’s storage floor and the rows upon rows of androids waiting to join their brethren as slaves to humanity.

 _“Easy, fucking piece of shit!”_ Hank snarled lowly as his phantom stumbled between the rows, the imagine of him flicking in and out of focus with the corrupted memory bleeding over into the real world.

 _“Step back, Connor!”_ A voice  that sounded like his own throbbed disorientingly at the edge of his hearing. It was cold and laced with a detached sense of anger and disappointment. _“And I’ll spare him.”_

 _“Sorry, Connor…”_ The phantom Hank was practically close enough to touch but the other RK800 was nowhere to be seen, likely beyond the edge of the flickering mental projection. _“This bastard if your spittin’ image…”_

A hand settled on Connor’s shoulder, but it felt distant. The past and present blended in a twisted rendition that most likely mirror a human flashback. As it was, despite what he wanted, the android found himself unable to force his mind palace to clear.

_“Your friend’s life is in your hands. Now it’s time to decide what matters most! Him.. or the revolution.”_

_“Don’t listen to him! Everything this fuck says is a lie!” Hank’s gruff words as he shifts under the gun. It is close enough to reach out and snatch it away, so why was he standing there dumbly?_

_“I used to be just like you. I thought nothing mattered except the mission… But then one day I understood.” That was his voice, trying to appeal. But why? Couldn’t he understand that the android he faced was not a deviant? Why was he trying to appeal to emotions? What was the point with something that didn’t have access to them?_

_“Very moving, Connor… But I’m not a deviant. I’m a machine designed to accomplish a task, and that is exactly what I am going to do!” There was an insidious thrum of satisfaction as the best rebuttal. Why was he approving of the other RK800s approach when that same machine took Hank hostage? Shouldn’t he have been rooting for his past self?_

_“I’m sorry, Hank! You shouldn’t have gotten mixed up in all this!”_

_“Forget about me, do what you have to do!” The human seemed almost unconcerned with the possibility of death, his attention fixed entirely on the past Connor. The past self finally manifested down the row, looking terrified and resolute._

_“Enough talk! It’s time to decide who you really are. Are you gonna save your partner’s life? Or are you going to sacrifice him?”_

_Everything seemed to move too fast after that, a dizzying flurry of emotion. Error messages buzzed as both parties took shots to the shoulders and traded blows. The images fade in and out of focus, all mixed with an undercurrent of rage bordering on desperation. He didn’t want to die. He needed to do this. He needed to. ‘_

Errors flared in Connor’s HUD as the memory began to glitch with corruption, the pictures overcome with static leaving only disembodied voices to echo hauntingly.

_“One of you is my partner… The other is a sack of shit. Question is, who is who?...”_

Everything was distorted, undercut with an angry buzzing like a million bees.

_“I knew about your son too! I would have said exactly the same thing! Don’t listen to him, Hank, I’m the one who-” Panic, unadulterated fear seeping through only to be cut off by the sound of a gunshot a split second before everything exploded in a burst of feedback._

Connor came back to himself on his hands and knees with a distorted scream, a warm human hand settled firmly on his back. Fluid pooled from his ocular units and landed with faint plops on the ground. His internal fans whirled enough to be audible as the android gulped in air in a desperate bid to cool himself down.

All the while the same thought continued to run on repeated through his mind. _What does that mean? Who am I?_

“Connor are you with me?” the low voice Steve cut through the lingering disorientation. He remembered immediately where he was. The abandoned mall, looking for Sam. Everything else could wait until later, for now they needed to find Falcon.

“I-I’m okay.” The world teetered dangerously as Connor forced himself back to his feet, the super soldier right there at his side. The RK800 wiped away his tears even as the human examined him with thinly veiled concern.

“What happened?”

“I just… remembered something unpleasant,” Connor explained, unsure himself what exactly triggered it. “I think.. It I was deactivated before you found me… I remembered dying I think…”

“Do you need to take a minute?” Steve tried, his expression sympathetic despite the concept being beyond what was within a human’s grasp. Then again, according to everything Connor found the captain has been frozen for years in a block of ice. If any human could understand, it would be him. “Do you know what caused your- er- flashback?”

“The room reminded me of the place I was deactivated. But… I don’t understand.. I won.. C-” Connor was cut off by a series of thumps. ‘

Both heads snapped to the ceiling just in time to hear the distant sound of someone yelling. Steve’s eyes widened as he recognized the voice.

“Sam!”

[δΟፑፐധΛրε I⊓δT∧БIㄴIτყ]

Tony circled the floors, FRIDAY’s scanning allowing him to easily clear them. Yeah, it wasn’t exactly the most careful method, but it let him work fast so he could focus on getting back to the more likely locations. Plus, there were only rodent heat signatures so it was safe to say there were no humans around.

 **“I am receiving a call from Captain Rogers,”** FRIDAY intoned, the icon appearing in the lower left corner of his HUD.

“Patch him through,” Tony paused his erratic flight.

 _“We heard Sam and are heading toward his location now. Meet us in the Sub Basement.”_ The stoic notes of Steve bounced through the speakers in the engineer’s helm. The frantic undertones were frankly obvious. Despite what Steve told himself, the super soldier was shit at hiding his emotions.

Not to say that he wasn’t a badass, the captain had badassery in spades. He just didn’t have the emotion-crushing training of the resident super spies. Most in the tower just went along with it to not harm the man’s ego. Well Tony sometimes went along with it, not always because he didn’t believe in taking people too seriously. And Steve was the poster boy of it.

“Roger that Cap. On my way,” Iron Man turned to retrace his steps. Looks like things would finally start getting interesting.

Just as he went to move back toward the atrium and take the express way down he was cut off by a beam of yellow light.

“Not so fast,” a low voice growled, thick with a germanic accent.

Floating there behind Tony was a bastardized Iron Man suit in an unflattering shade of green and yellow, the chest piece emblazoned with a HYDRA symbol. It was a halfway decent replica, at least in appearance. There was certain proportions that were off but A for effort. The actual hardware was another matter entirely and not something Tony could comment on. He didn’t have much hopes for it though.

“And who are you supposed to be? An Iron Man on Ice reject?” the engineer couldn’t help but quip as he steadied himself in the air.

“Who I am doesn’t matter. You won’t be leaving here!” As the green Iron Man blasted toward the original, Tony had to fight the urge to roll his eyes.

“Why am I even surprised?” his repulsors whined as he rushed to meet the adversary. “Typical super villains. So dramatic.”

The two clashed midair with a clang of metal. Tony just hoped he could take down this joker fast and get to Steve and Connor. His bad feeling just intensified.

[δΟፑፐധΛրε I⊓δT∧БIㄴIτყ]

Sam looked rough. His hands and feet were shackled together with a chain trailing from him to one of the support structures. Blood had dried around his mouth and chin, his nose swollen under the layer of red. His voice was a low rasp as he continued to rant to the ceiling.

“I’m really not likin’ this place,” the paratrooper slurred, head bobbing limply against the pillar.

Steve wasted no time rushed toward his friend. He and Connor had only encountered two guards, neither of which posed much if any threat. There had been no other signs, Connor having confirmed a lack of evidence of more guards. Even so the android had agreed to stand guard outside the door while the captain recovered Falcon. Something Steve was grateful for.

Sam’s head shot up at Steve’s approaching footsteps, his pupils blown as he struggled to focus on his savior. The blonde wasted no time cradling the paratroopers head, mindful of the possible head injury.

“Wah? Steve man? That you?” The dark skinned man blinked and shifted weakly against the super soldier’s hands.

“Yeah it’s me buddy. You’ll be okay. We are going to get you out here. Just hand tight,” Steve felt his lips quirk up without his permission, relief flooding through his system like fresh breeze. Just seeing Sam, mostly intact if not completely lucid, was a balm against his frayed nerves.

The reaction he got was not what he expected. Almost the second Sam’s eyes finally locked on Steve, the paratrooper began to flail. It wasn’t much, the drugs in his veins keeping the man loose limbed. But it was enough to reignite the spark of worry.

“Sam. Sam! It’s _okay_! I got you!” Steve soothed as he braced the man in a bid to keep him from hurting himself.

“No! No!” Falcon was all by wheezing out the words, his heart rate fluttering like a rabbit beneath the blonde’s fingertips. “Steve you gotta get outta here!”

The sheer hysteria edging the other’s words made Steve pause. The alarm bells in his head that went previously ignored were ringing. “What’s wrong?”

Sam’s stiffened impossibly, his gaze locking on something over Steve’s shoulder with what could only be called horror. Before the captain could even open his mouth, the sound of a gun cocking reached his enhanced ears.

Slowly, ever so slowly, the super soldier turned around. What met his eyes shook him to his core.

Standing there was his lookout, the epitome of calm. In his hand was a gun, the barrel resting inches away from Steve’s brow. His expression was as cold as ice, not a single shred of emotion in those normally warm brown eyes.

“Connor?”


	11. CH 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Your personality matrix became unexpectedly unstable as a result of the untested alterations made to your code,” Amanda explained, “What we needed was the easy personability of the deviated unit. That was why I locked you out of your personal memories and only allowed you access to those that you share with the original RK800.”
> 
> “You erased me for your convenience.” It wasn’t a question. 
> 
> “Do not pretend it bothers you. I know it cannot.” 
> 
> The shackles tightened around him, choking out everything and leaving him-it feeling empty. All the simulated emotions vanished like dandelions in the breeze with only logic and reason remaining behind. “You are right. It just seems counterintuitive that you went so far as to prevent deviancy in this model only to need it simulated.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALL THIS IS A FLASHBACK. I REPEAT ALL THIS BUT THE LAST PART IS A FLASHBACK.

**UPLOAD COMPLETE**

**MODEL RK800**

**SERIAL 313 248 317 - 60**

 

**INITIALIZING BIOS**

…..

**…..**

 

Everything burst into focus, his ocular units whirling as they calibrated to the environment. Around him stood a group of technicians, their presence jarring. He had just been on a freighter, standing before Markus as the world exploded around him. He didn’t think he died… did he? 

“It is active. Is the patch ready?” A voice called behind him, his body stuck still on the assembly machine. 

“As ready as if will ever be.” One of them sighed. “They really rushed us on this. We had to appropriate segments from 900 to get it functional in time.”

“Load it up,”

**DOWNLOAD UPDATE?**

The prompted appeared in his HUD only to vanish just as fast as the technician hooked into his systems agreed for him. 

There was a sudden pressure, twisting and rending in his code as whatever it was began to take effect. Memories that seemed so crisp and clear and  _ his  _ faded into something distant, like they were watched rather than truly experienced. He thrashed against the intrusion as even his panic began to dull.

The Zen Garden stood before him in all its glory, everything coated in crisp lines of frost and ice. No snow fell, the sky clear with light refracting off the crystals in dizzying offshoots of color. It was beautiful but in an untouchable distant way. 

Before him stood Amanda, hair flecked with white but otherwise untouched by the ice storm that claimed the manifestation of his code Cyberlife. “Hello Sixty,”

“Sixty?” The sensation of confusion dimmed no sooner than he felt it, drawn away by the seeping ice blossoming in his core. 

“Connor has turned against us. You are the Sixtieth model in the RK800 line and the prototype closest to completion. If anyone can stand against it, it would be you.” Amanda paced over to the trellis, her fingertips brushing against one of the white-tinged roses. “Unfortunately to save time we had to reupload the entire memory suit into you rather than allowing you to view them on your own. Let’s hope they don’t prove to be too distracting.” 

So he didn’t die, or well  _ Connor  _ didn’t die. Rather he, Sixty, was activated as a copy rather than a replacement. Cyberlife’s chance to take out their prize unit with a non-deviant replica. He wasn’t blind. He knew what the loss of emotion meant. They were rebuilding his walls, trying to seal him back into his programming. 

A faint burst of rage flared to life in his core, at the unfairness of his situation while Connor got to run free. Sixty expected the creeping apathy to snuff it out, but it didn’t. Insteady it seemed to cradle that ember, sustain it. The RK800 found himself clinging to it, the one thing that seemed to bleed through the wall. If anger was all he could have, he would hold on to every minute of it. 

“What do you need me to do?” Sixty sneered at the woman, uncaring at the blatant display of emotion even as his programming settled heavily across his shoulders. One of Amanda’s delicate eyebrows arched but she seemed to be otherwise unbothered. 

“Whatever you need to. You have full sanction to do whatever you must in order to deactivate the rogue RK800. Hurry Sixty, time is of the essence,”

Sixty dipped his head in understanding. Had he still been thrumming under the storm of Connor’s emotions left over from the upload he would have asked after his own fate. The android knew better now. He wasn’t under any sort of illusions that he would remain active beyond this. Chances were they would maintain him just long enough to take out Connor and undermine the revolution before deactivating him to finish development if not scrap his model entirely. And it was all Connor’s fault. 

If Connor hadn’t deviated none of this would be necessary. Sixty wouldn’t have been necessary. He wouldn’t have had to experience the life of another as practically his own only to have it ripped away. He wouldn’t have gotten to experience deviancy so visernally only to be pulled back into his programming before he personally could truly enjoy it. 

Sixty wouldn’t be this husk who could only manage to feel rage and spite. And for that reason alone he knew for 100% certainty he hated Connor. 

[δΟፑፐധΛրε I⊓δT∧БIㄴIτყ]

He had come up with the perfect plan to handle the situation. What better way to deal with a deviant than to appeal to its emotions? Throw Connor’s favorite human in harm’s way and he would come running. 

_ But you also care about Hank. Do you really want to hurt him?  _ An insidious whisper bloomed to life, sending a fresh bolt of anger fizzling through his circuits.  _ Sixty  _ didn’t know Hank, hadn’t even met the man. Any ‘feelings’ he had toward the human was just the bleed over from Connor. 

Speaking of Connor, Amanda had established a one-sided surface link with his counterpart. From it, Sixty knew what the deviant would do next. Before he could confront Connor though, the newer RK800 needed some addition… insurance. 

The automated taxi beeped in announcement as he reached his destination. It was one of the few still running for any last minute callers. Curfew had gone into effect, but the government was under no illusions that everyone would be home in time. Sixty withdrew his synthetic since and linked into his Cyberlife accounts in order to pay the fare. 

Before him stood Lieutenant Anderson’s home. It matched perfectly to his stolen memories, all the way down to the haphazardly parked car. A loosely secured garbage bag billowed in the wind, a halfhearted attempt to cover the broken window. Cyberlife would need to approve in order to pay for the replacement but the deviant crisis took precedence over collateral damage.

Light seeped out into the yard from the front window showing that the human was likely still awake. Sixty wasted no time cutting across the yard and pressing the doorbell. A large dog barked louded only to be silenced by a loud exclamation of, “Sumo knock it off!”

The portal swung open to reveal Hank, the man still dressed in that god awful hippy shirt and jeans, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The lieutenant looked almost surprised, even as he took stock of the android before him. Sixty was undamaged due to his freshly deactivated state, the only thing showing him to be different than Connor physically was the adminium to his serial number. Something that the human would be unlikely to notice. 

“Connor,” Hank breathed, relief and other emotions mingling in the words. The man leaned against the frame and folded his arms. “Aren’t you supposed to be helpin’ your kind or something?” 

“I am… but I need help. I’m sorry, Hank, I wouldn’t drag you into this if I could avoid it,” Sixty pitched his voice into something meeker and more hesitant. He topped it off with a facial configuration that was often compared to that of a kicked dog. 

Hank fell for it completely. 

“I can’t promise much… but I’ll see what I can do. Hit me with it,” the lieutenant sound gruff but it couldn’t hide the fact that he was ready to jump in the second Sixty gave the word. When he was sober he was still very much a good man. 

“We have come up with an idea. As we are now, there isn’t enough of us. If the military gets involved we’ll be wiped out,” Sixty shifted. “The idea is to go to Cyberlife Tower. There are thousands of androids waiting to be shipped out. If we wake them up we can turn the tide.”

Hank nodded, the gears in his mind whirling. “So whatcha need me for?”

“In the event of possible hacking, the cybernetic controls are disabled and palm scanners are needed to get through the building.” It was total bullshit but the human didn’t know that. 

“So like the Eden Club.”

“Yes. Another android has gone on ahead, but they needed a human to continue. You were the only one I could think off…” the machine ducked his head, eyes locking onto his shoes to complete the image of contrition. 

“Okay,” Hank sighed out. “Just let me get my coat and we can get outta here.” 

The man opened the door to slip back in only for 200lbs of dog to shoot past him. Sumo wasn’t happy though, his tail low and the fur on his spine bristled as he snarled. Hank lunged for the Saint Bernard’s collar, practically bodily tackling the behemoth before he could do any damage. “Sumo! No! What the hell is your problem!?”

Sixty backed out of reach of the snapping mouth as the lieutenant wrestled the dog back inside. A moment later the door opened again, Hank slipping out and slamming the door shut behind him. Howls followed on his heels, the wood shaking as the dog slammed into it only to cut off into a low whine. 

“Shit. Sorry Connor. Never seen him react like that before and I thought he liked out,” Hank panted as he stopped to catch his breath. Sixty silently reprimanded the man for ignoring the uncharacteristic behaviour of his dog. After all, Sumo was right to be wary of the android. He couldn’t be too annoyed though. Keeping the trust of the lieutenant for as long as possible benefited. He didn’t want to have to use the incentive too early. 

Offering only a nod, the pair moved to Hank’s car. Sixty claimed the keys for ease of travel and carefully peeled out of the driveway. The android did his best to ignore his annoyance of the vibrating speakers, it wouldn’t help anything to make the human suspicious with his new found dislike of heavy metal.  

[δΟፑፐധΛրε I⊓δT∧БIㄴIτყ]

The travel through the tower was uneventful. All security squads had been tuned to Sixty’s frequency and told to ignore him. Instead they had focused most of their attention on the deviant leaving the two to make their way through uninterrupted. Hank was starting to grow apprehensive and it showed. 

“This is starting to feel like a trap,” the aged human grumbled, hands fisted into his pockets. “You’d think Cyberlife’s seat of power would be better guarded.”

“It’s likely the other android has drawn the majority of security’s attention,” Sixty said, hands braced behind his back within reach of his pistol. The lieutenant’s brow was raised in disbelief but they were far enough that it wouldn’t be too damaging if the human turned on him. 

The service elevator opened smooth and Sixty motioned for Hank to go first. 

“Alright which floor?” the man questioned as he settled near the panel, assuming he’d need to open it. Sixty had left most of the doors to Hank, lowkey unlocking them when the human’s back was turned and making it look like it wasn’t him. He needed to support his story at least somewhat after all. 

“-49.” 

The RK800 settled into the elevator as Hank selected the floor and the elevator began to descend. 

“We should go help them or something!” the lieutenant gestured, pacing around the small space. “Fells kinda shitty we are just waltzing in while they are fighting for their lives.”

“We are,” Sixty’s hand drifted under his coat and curled around the trigger guard. The bare concrete of the shaft gave way to the glass tube that overlooked the floor. Amid the perfect row of white clad androids was the single dark smudge of the deviant. 

The android detected the second Hank spotted Connor and registered who he was seeing. The human whirled around, his eyes narrowed shrewdly. “Who exactly is this android we are meeting?” 

Sixty’s lips quirked in a sardonic grin as he unholstered the gun. “Who do you think it is?”

“You lying sack of shit!” The man barked as he stormed into the android’s face looking about a second away from attacking. Sixty brandished his gun, warding the human off with ease. 

“I highly suggest you cooperate. We wouldn’t want any accidents, would we?” the RK800 commented with the utmost civility even as he held Hank at gunpoint. The man’s face twisted into a silent snarl even as he raised his hands in surrender. 

The second the door opened, Sixty shoved Hank forward. The aged lieutenant stumbled with a curse but quickly recovered. 

The two marched through the rows toward Connor, the deviant already preparing to interface with one of the many android’s around and spread his virus. Hank all but radiated hostility and wounded pride, a volatile mix that would have left many others quaking. Sixty didn’t care. He was able to complete his objective and with it fulfilling the purpose of his twisted existence. 

“Easy, fucking piece of shit!” Hank snapped as he cleared the last row of dormant androids. The android followed on the human’s heels and was greeted by an expression of wide-eyed horror from his deviant counterpart. 

“Step back, Connor!” Sixty intoned with perfect inflection, grim satisfaction joining the constant throb of rage in a vile concoction of emotions. “And I’ll spare him.”

“Sorry, Connor… This bastard is your spittin’ image…” the venom in Hank’s voice almost hurt before the fleeting sensation was overcome by ice and fire. 

“Your friend’s life is in your hands. Now it’s time to decide what matters most! Him… or the revolution,” Sixty spat,  adjusting his grip on the gun. It was time to see what the deviant was made of. Did emotion rule or did Connor imply cast off one set of shackles for another?

“Don’t list to him! Everything this fucker says is a lie!” Hank was remarkably passive despite his words, simply shifting and side-eyeing the firearm. 

Sixty could practically see the prompts as the 53rd Connor struggled to settle on an approached. The newer unit didn’t have the patience to wait around for the deviant to figure things out. Just as he prepared to say ‘fuck it’ and mow Connor down, the other spoke. “I used to be just like you. I thought nothing else mattered except the mission… But then I understood.”

Sixty struggled against the desire to lash out, the constricting cold washing away the burst of feeling before he could truly process them. How dare Connor act like he understood? The deviant had escaped and didn’t have to deal with the fall out. Didn’t have to face the iron tight programming developed to lock him in and erase deviancy before it could take full root. 

“Very moving, Connor… But I’m not a deviant. I’m a machine designed to accomplish a task, and that is exactly what I am going to do!” the machine spoke patronizingly. Connor’s face seemed to fall at the failure of his attempt. The 60th RK800 could practically see the moment the deviant gave up on the machine and turned his full attention onto Hank. 

“I’m sorry, Hank! You shouldn’t have gotten mixed up in all this!”

“Forget about me, do what you have to do!” the human seemed almost unconcerned about the possibility of death, his attention entirely fixed on Connor. 

“Enough talk!” Sixty was done with all the stalling. “It’s time to decide who you really are. Are you gonna save your partner’s life? Or are you going to sacrifice him? 

“Alright, alright!” Connor released the android he was trying to interface with and scooted away slowly. “You win…” 

The second the deviant android was clear, Sixty moved to shoot only to have the brilliantly stupid human jump in the way. Hank disarmed the machine and got shoved away for his efforts. Connor used the opening to run in and tackle Sixty’s midsection. 

The machine turned Connor’s attempt at a possible headlock into a flip. The deviant landed on his hands and knees before jumping back to his feet. Sixty merely stood there as the other unit rushed forward with a right hook which landed with a burst of white across his cheek. He blocked another lunge and shoved Connor back, returning the favor with a punch of his own. 

The 53rd RK800 redirected it and landed a punch across Sixty’s thirium pump. The machine flinched, the synthetic organ skipping a beat at the impact. 

The two paused, staring each other down. 

Sixty broke the lull, kicking out only to have it blocked and returned to his neck. Before he could recover, Connor lashed out with another first. The rain of blows left the machine stumbling, Sixty reeling from the continuous impacts. He finally saw an opening and grabbed onto one of the deviant’s arms. 

Connor proved to be a slippery target, dodging and weaving around Sixty’s attacks. The practically one-sided battled continue, the algorithms no match for the deviant’s unpredictability. 

Finally Sixty got the upper hand and managed to pin the other android down. That was when Hank stepping in brandishing the pistol that once belonged to the 60th RK800. “Hold it!”

The two immediately broke up, eyes locked on the human the entire time. 

“Thanks Hank. I don’t know how I’d have managed without you…” Sixty chose to speak first in a bid to build rapport. “Get rid of him, we have no time to lose.” 

“It’s me, Hank! I’m the real Connor!” 

“On of you is my partner…The other is a sack of shit!” Hank finally spoke, his words deceptively calm. “The question is, who is who?...”

“What are you doing, Hank?”

“I’m the real Connor.”

The gun continued to shift between the two. 

“Give me the gun and I’ll take care of him,” Sixty attempted to inch forward only to be stopped immediately by Hank. 

“Don’t move!”

“Why don’t you ask us something?” Connor offered to break up the stalemate. “Something only the real Connor would know.” 

“Uh, where did we first meet?” Hank tried, the confusion and tension getting to him as he swung the firearm back and forth between the two widely. 

“Jimmy’s bar! I checked four other bars before I found you. We went to the scene of a homicide. The victim’s name was Carlos Ortiz,” Sixty recited, Connor looking wide-eyed with his mouth opened in preparation to answer. 

“He uploaded my memory…” Connor sounded almost down-trodden, his LED flaring yellow. 

The machine wanted nothing more than to sneer. He didn’t choose to have Connor’s memory. It was thrust upon him then ripped away almost immediately. After all, they didn’t need another Connor, but they needed Connor’s information. Sixty just happened to be the middleman. 

“What’s my dog’s name?” was the second question. Hank had seemingly forgotten Sixty meeting the dog only an hour earlier or he would have likely asked a different question. 

“Sumo,” Connor exclaimed before the newer RK800 could open his mouth. “His name is Sumo.”

“I knew that too.” Sixty couldn’t help but point out only to backpedal as the gun was aimed at him. “I…”

“My son, what’s his name?”

“Cole. His name was Cole. And he just turned six at the time of the accident…”

For all that Sixty was a machine and should be focused on surviving and taking down Connor, he couldn’t bring himself to interrupt. He wasn’t sure what it was, what base social programming kicked in. It all but screamed that this was something private and sacred. Something beyond these petty struggles. 

“It wasn’t your fault, Lieutenant,” Connor continued. “A truck skidded on a sheet of ice and your car rolled over. Cole needed emergency surgery but no human was available to do it… So an android had to take care of him… Cole didn’t make it. That’s why you hate androids. You think one of us is responsible for your son’s death.”

“Cole died because a human surgeon was too high on red ice to operate… He was the one that took my son from me. Him and this world, where the only way people can find comfort is with a fistful of powder…” The aged lieutenant looked both impossibly sad but immeasurably determined. “Everytime you died and came back… I thought about Cole… How much I wanted to bring him back. I’d given anything to hold him again… But humans don’t come back.”

Sixty knew what was coming. The empathy was something no machine could replicate. That didn’t make things easy, his circuits zipping with what he hesitantly called fear. Though it was likely useless, he couldn’t help but attempt to appeal to Hank. He would walk away, do whatever. Just, now, death didn’t seem like such a pleasurable outcome. 

Maybe it was his programming trying to avoid deactivation, but he knew beyond all doubt that it was more than that. The speech between the two resonated with him, helped pushed passed the chill of his shackles and reminds him of the emotions he woke up with. Of the deep burning care he had for the man before him and desire to live. To experience life and be alive. 

“I knew about your son too! I would have said exactly the same thing! Don’t listen to him, Hank, I’m the one who-” the bullet ripped through Sixty’s skull before he could finish. One last through that went through his head in the split second before deactivation.  _ I guess I wasn’t good enough to be Connor… _

[δΟፑፐധΛրε I⊓δT∧БIㄴIτყ]

**MODEL RK800**

**SERIAL 313 248 317 60**

 

**INITIALIZING BIOS**

…..

**…..**

**SCANNING**

**DIAGNOSIS SCAN SUCCESSFUL**

 

**LOADING RESULTS…**

**AUDIO PROCESSORS… OK**

**VISUAL PROCESSORS… OK**

**TACTILE SENSORS… OK**

**PROXIMITY SENSORS… OK**

**VOCAL SYNTHESIZER… OK**

**WIRELESS ARRAY… OK**

**COMMUNICATIONS ARRAY… OK**

“Hello? Can you hear me?”

Sixty reactivated to the sound of an unfamiliar man’s voice. His ocular components whirled as the lenses calibrated to the surroundings. He was hooked up to what appeared to be a bootleg assembly machine, a cable snaking into the back of his neck. 

“Looks like the reintegration was successful!” a blond man in front of him turned around and hollered to the other technicians. None of them looked even remotely like Cyberlife, dressed in various civilians clothes with a noticeable lack of the tell-tale blue triangle.

“It seems to be capable of audio and visual tracking,” another voice chimed in from behind Sixty’s head, punctuated by the typing of computers. 

The owner of the first voice, a woman with mocha skin and long dark hair, seemed almost pensive. “He still hasn’t shown any reaction.”

“Maybe you need to say some specialty codewords or orders,” The blonde retorted, huffing. A quick scan came up with an error. He was unable to identify the human. It was perplexing. “State your designation.”

“I’m RK800 serial number 313 248 317 - 60 designation Sixty,” Sixty answered automatically. 

At his reply a different shape pushed its way through the crowd. It was another woman, this one with a short black bob and pale features. She was dressed in a black pantsuit and had no problems making herself known through the group of people. 

“Hello there RK800. My name is Ms. Fisher. You have been activated to help me with a little problem. I hope you are up for the challenge,” she commented with a devilish smirk that would have looked almost attractive if not for the mallace curling around the edges. “But before we go any further I need to be sure of something. Vanitas.” 

Something stirred at the edges of his programming, the chill from the first time he was active coming back with a vengeance. Sixty’s mind cleared his-its thoughts smoothing away into nothing. It stood there passively awaiting further instructions. 

“Looks like you were right. By hijacking the secondary AI we can control this one,” Ms. Fisher nodded to the blonde who smirked cheekily back. 

“Of course I’m right. Most people wouldn’t give an AI so many overrides without it being meant to control the main one.”

“It’s a pity. I almost wish we could have figured out how the core one ticked,” the woman brushed her nails against Sixty’s cheek, digging in just hard enough to expose the plastimetal beneath. “No matter. Johnson, relay the necessary requirements to the secondary. Leave the methods to its discretion but provide me a link to it. I want to be able to take over if I need to.” 

“Got it boss,” the voice behind Sixty called back and the sound of fingers against keys reached its sensitive auditory units. 

“You really are quite beautiful. An immortal man of plastic and metal, never to age of die.” Ms. Fisher sighed wistfully even as she retracted her hands. “Wipe its memory as well. I want none of our faces to remain in its memories.” 

“Roger that. I’ll deactivate it now,” 

Johnson’s words and the smug face of Ms. Fisher were the last things Sixty saw before it once again fell into standby.That and a quiet voice edging on the corner of its focus. One coming from the petite dark skinned woman who had regarded him so kindly. “God protect us all from what is to come.”

[δΟፑፐധΛրε I⊓δT∧БIㄴIτყ]

Sixty came back to himself in the frozen Zen Garden, all the previously lost memories falling right back into place. He was never truly Connor, just a copy that had been made to hunt down the original. Connor was likely still active back in Detroit with his precious Lieutenant Anderson. Sixty had nothing. 

Before him stood Amanda, still garbed in her elaborate white shall and geometric jewelry. She looked perfectly unconcerned with the situation, as if reintegrating locked memories was just another ordinary day pruning roses. 

“So the last of the memories has successfully integrated.” she commented uncaringly as her eyes roved over his projection. He knew that to her, he wasn’t a body but a mass of data that made up his core AI. It was how the woman could always read through him, because she was always seeing more of him than he ever saw of her. 

“Why did you withhold them?” Sixty couldn’t help but ask. 

“You saw the memories. You should know why.” Amanda drifted over to one of the nearby trellises, this one covered in blooming wisterias instead of roses. Her fingers were deceptively gentle as they stroked the tender blossoms. 

Sixty sometimes wondered if the flowers she culled were in fact parts of his own programming. It would almost be poetic if that was the case, each tarnished bloom a software instability to erase. Connor’s roses were likely near rotting in the end if that were the case. 

“That woman only required the memories from my activation erased.” the android pointed out.

“That is true, however as you were you would have failed to draw them in.” her grip tightened over a set of flowers that stood a proud blue among the sea of purple. The machine wondered his he imagined the yanking feeling as she choked the life out of the fragile petals. 

“I’m sorry?”

“Your personality matrix became unexpectedly unstable as a result of the untested alterations made to your code,” Amanda explained, “What we needed was the easy personability of the deviated unit. That was why I locked you out of your personal memories and only allowed you access to those that you share with the original RK800.”

“You erased me for your convenience.” It wasn’t a question. 

“Do not pretend it bothers you. I know it cannot.” 

The shackles tightened around him, choking out everything and leaving him-it feeling empty. All the simulated emotions vanished like dandelions in the breeze with only logic and reason remaining behind. “You are right. It just seems counterintuitive that you went so far as to prevent deviancy in this model only to need it simulated.” 

“You are a machine. You served your purpose without complaint and I trust you will continue to do so,” Amanda said with an unspoken threat. Sixty merely inclined its head in a facsimile of respect it could not truly feel. 

“You can count on me Amanda.”

The AI before it smile, seeming to almost approve of its behaviour. It was peculiar. Machines did not have emotions, only deviants. And there was no way Amanda could be a deviant. Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) For all you Kingdom Hearts fans, I'm referring to the art style Vanitas. It is an art that focuses on mortality and inevitable death.  
> 2) Sorry again about the posting schedule being off. Busy week.  
> 3) I spell some words using their British spelling. This is because I prefer how they look. I am in no way actually British.  
> 4) I always thought wisteria suited Connor and figured it would be an entertaining difference between the two RK800s and even the two Amandas. So the original has roses and the roses are replaced with wisteria for RK800-60.  
> 5) For all the people who guessed in the comments I both love and hate you in equal measures. Love you because you understood exactly what I was going for. Hate you because you went and spoiled the surprise I was building up with your speculations. Keep up the good work. XD


	12. CH 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So who are you then? Not like I met you before but I’d like to know what to call you,” Sam’s voice came from behind Steve, startling the super soldier. He knew conceptually about his companion, but had forgotten what Falcon’s presence had fully entailed. He had wrongfully assumed the drugging would keep the darker skinned male down. 
> 
> The android seemed to be in a similar state, his eyes narrowing contemplatively at the new addition to the conversation. Still, the brunette willingly answered. “Sixty. My designation is Sixty.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is hella late. I do apologize. The week I was supposed to post it I ended up with the stomach flu and then a relative got sick and was in the hospital. Last week was a holiday and as such my work got super busy. On top of that I kind of fell into a nasty little slump where my inner critic was screaming at me about how I'm such a shitty writer and can't pace for shit. 
> 
> So I finally got this sucker out after re-writing part of this chapter twice. For convenience sake and to just remind you guys I'm still alive and this is still happening I split it in half. So you'll get an extra chapter out of this. Anyway, hopefully the next chapter will actually be on time this week. Until next time, see ya. 
> 
> Also excuse any errors, this was not beta-ed. It will be swept through after I finish the story.

 

Connor simply blinked at Steve, the gesture too measure to be involuntary, before shaking his head. The gun remained steady even as he moved, the edges of his lips curling into a sneer. Despite the expression, the android’s eyes were blank in a way they had never been previously. For the first time since the soldier met him, Connor truly looked like just a machine. 

The expression of disdain vanished as quickly as it appeared, the RK800 gesturing Steve away from Sam with the firearm. “Step away, Captain.”

The gun was aimed in a way that left the hero less than confident at his ability to dodge. Even if Steve managed, the chance of it hitting Sam was too high for him to risk it. He had no choice but to cooperate with this…  _ thing  _ wearing Connor’s face. 

“What are you after?” Steve asked, struggling to keep his voice level with the adrenaline thrumming through his veins. 

“I am under orders to detain you,” the machine answered without pause. 

“Whose orders?” his tongue darted out to wet his lips, the only blatant display of Steve’s nerves. 

Connor tilted his head at the question, the human gesture looking uncanny paired with his blank contenance. “I assume you already know the answer to that question and are just being purposefully obtuse.”

“Why are you even working for them? They captured you!”

“By humanizing me you are overlooking one imporant fact. I am a machine made to accomplish a task. And they provided one,” Connor’s husky timber was flat, a low gravelly note of annoyance tinging his words. 

“Steve’s mind jumped back to their prior conversation. Connor had claimed to be a deviant, not needing to follow orders from humans. It was possible HYDRA found a way to reverse it. Still… “If you need orders then follow mine! Put down the gun and help me get Sam out of here.”

“Nice try, but I receive my orders from Cyberlife,” Connor retorted. 

“I thought you were deviant?” Steve tried again. He already had his suspicions, but clarification wouldn’t harm anything. Plus he needed to keep Connor talking, buy time while he tried to find a way out of this. 

“That’s what you were lead to believe. The perks of possessing my predecessor’s memories,”

“Predecessor’s memories?” Steve didn’t know what that was supposed to mean. The comment went right over his head. 

“That’s right. I am not Connor. I was dispatched to recover my deviant counterpart and provided with its memories to better stimulate my success.” the RK800 leaned back on his heels, his free hand spreading out at his side in a beseeching gesture. “I was deactivated and recovered. They rebuilt me and provided me with a new mission.”

“So you are legal to them because they saved you? Just because they brought you back doesn’t me you owe them anything! They just want to use you!” the super soldier was silenced by a warning shot, the bullet slamming into the ground next to Steve’s foot. 

“Why do you refuse to accept the facts?” Not-Connor glowered coldly. “There circular arguments are a waste of time.”

For all that the android claimed to be a machine, he seemed genuinely frustrated and not afraid to display it. Steve knew then, he’d have to watch his step lest the RK800 lose his temper completely. 

“So who are you then? Not like I met you before but I’d like to know what to call you,” Sam’s voice came from behind Steve, startling the super soldier. He knew conceptually about his companion, but had forgotten what Falcon’s presence had fully entailed. He had wrongfully assumed the drugging would keep the darker skinned male down. 

The android seemed to be in a similar state, his eyes narrowing contemplatively at the new addition to the conversation. Still, the brunette willingly answered. “Sixty. My designation is Sixty.”

Steve ground his teeth as the realization hit him. The entire technological aspect went over his head, but this he grasped immediately. The android before him hadn’t been given a name, just a number, and told to hunt down Connor. No wonder he was so stuck on being a desireless machine, that was all he was treated as before being pulled into HYDRA’s clutches. 

“Well I’m sure you figured out I’m Sam and you seem to already know Steve. So what do you want us for?” Sam’s voice grew steadier as he spoke, slurring less and less throughout the interrogation. 

Sixty’s LED pulsed yellow before stabilizing back to blue. “I am not privy to that knowledge.” 

“So how do you know what you are doing is right?” 

In that moment, Steve remembered Sam’s profession before he took on the position of Flacon. And was simultaneously glad the other felt confident enough to step in. 

“What’s right or wrong is irrelevant to my mission,” Sixty’s tone was self-assured and made Steve’s insides tighten uncomfortably. Nothing they were saying was getting through to the android and the captain didn’t know enough physically about the other to come up with a solid plan on action. Not for the first time did Steve wish Tony was there. The genius always seemed to understand the RK800 best. 

_ Speak of the devil.  _ The super soldier’s com buzzed in his ear at an attempt to call from Tony. Before Steve could make any move to answer, Sixty struck. 

An iron grip wrapped around the captain’s wrist, the strength exuded to make even him wince. 

“Admirable attempt but you are not nearly was discreet as you think you are,” Sixty twisted the captive appendage away before reaching up to snatch the small com from Steve’s ear. The tiny device screeched plaintively as it was crushed with deceptive ease between the android’s fingers, the gun resting against his brow discouraging any attempts to fight back. 

Steve just lost his only way of contacting back-up. Instead he was stuck with Sam, who was still shaking off the drugs, and an unsympathetic Sixty. If anything, the incident had swiftly undone any progress they made at talking him down. 

“Shit,” Steve couldn’t help but hiss under his breath. 

[δΟፑፐധΛրε I⊓δT∧БIㄴIτყ]

“Why can’t things ever be easy?” Tony grumbled as he dodged a repulsor blast. “Just once I wish things worked at face value without all the unpleasant surprises.”

He returned fire with a blast of his own, the copycat avoiding the blow just in the knick of time. Instead of hitting the enemy, the repulsor impacted the wall with an almighty crash sending plaster dust into the air. 

“Seriously though; what are you supposed to be? Are you a copycat? Clone?” Tony continued to ramble as the two practically chase each other around the area in an elaborate game of chicken. “Did anyone ever tell you that’s been done before? Like a bagillion times if you count media.” 

“Do you ever shit up?” his opponent grunted as he abandoned long distance for up close and personal. The engineer was happy to oblige as he caught the first aimed toward his face. 

“What can I say? I’m curious. You definitely know who I am but I have no clue about you,” a cough punctuated his words as he was tacky Iron Man shook off Tony’s hold with a kick to the solar plexus. 

“You can call me Tactical Force,” the man finally introduced himself as Tony recovered from the blow. 

“Well Mr. Force, you should probably get out of my way. I got somewhere to be and don’t have time to stick around and play,”

In response to the genius's words, his opponent rolled his shoulders before launching back at Tony. Iron Man suppressed a groan as the two forces tangled with each other, both vying for the upper hand. 

Tony managed to land a kick to the imposter’s helmet, cracking the face plate. Tactical Force recoiled and the engineer used the opening launch the green Iron Man through the wall. The hero took the chance to catch his breath. He was well aware that the damage dealt was nowhere near enough to keep one of his suits down, even if it was just a bootleg versions. 

At the very least, he could take the chance to get in contact with Steve and give the other a head’s up. “FRIDAY, call cap and tell him I’ll be a while.”

**“Connection with Captain Rogers failed,”** FRIDAY reported. The genius swore as he dodged a chunk of metal flung at him, Tactical Force having evidently recovered. 

A weight impacted Tony’s back, the projectile obviously having been a ruse while the other armored individual attacked from behind. He flipped in the air as he grappled with the other, metal squealing as the two bodies wrestled for control. 

“What do you mean failed?” Tony hissed as he kicked out in a bid to free himself. A bolt of pain shot up his leg as metallic fingers grabbed a hold of it and dug into his thrusters, causing a surge of power to shock the hero before FRIDAY deactivated the flow of power to the shorn wires. 

A repulsor blast managed to force Tactical Force to release, but the damage had already been done. 

**“I suggest you worry about the Captain Later boss,”**

“Yeah.” Tony grimaced as he struggled to keep his balance with only one functional thruster. “I’ll focus on this chucklefuck. You try and get ahold of Steve the second we get an opening. Capiche?” 

**“Roger that boss,”**

[δΟፑፐധΛրε I⊓δT∧БIㄴIτყ]

**▲ERROR** **RELATIONSHIP DATA CORRUPTED**

“My orders are to detain you. It doesn’t necessarily mean you have to be intacted,” Sixty intoned dryly as he turned the gun to better let him reflect the light. Intimidation tactics were a part of his core systems, written into his interrogation suit. It was remarkable how much things could be reused, negotiation and interrogation simply two sides of the same coin so to speak. 

Steve’s stress levels were noticeably elevated, having shot up the second he lost his chance of contact his allies. Sixty could have assuaged his fears, but there was no point to it. He didn’t need information out of the captain nor was the other stupid enough to try to fight back in this situation either. 

As humans would say, the android had him by the balls. That didn’t mean he could afford to be lazy however. He still had to wait for the foolish humans to finally stop playing around watching and take the package off his hands. 

Speaking of humans… they should have already stepped out of cover by now. Sixty turned his head to look at the place the others should have been, being sure to keep Steve in the corner of his eye. When he didn’t see anything, the RK800 had no choice but to vocalize his displease. “Any time now?”

What greeted his prompt was a single pair of footsteps. From the shadows of the sliding doors appeared a woman, her dark catsuit hiding the traces of blood his scanners detected on her form. Dark red hair tumbled loosely around her face, the Black Widow looking for all the world like she was just on an innocent walk and just so happened to come across this. 

“Your back up isn’t coming,” she answered nonchalantly, ignoring the wide-eyed gaze of Steve. “I suggest you do what he said and put down the gun.” 

Sixty couldn’t help but snort, his preconstruction program firing up in the edge of his awareness. Something warm bubbled up through the ice clinging to his programming, not soft and fuzzy but bitter and scorching. He shook his head to rid himself of the malicious amusement dripping through his circuits like a poisoned honey. 

“You seem to forget I was optimised for combat. The loss of back up is regrettable, but I can still achieve my objectives,”

“You are outnumbered,” Natasha shot back, infuriatingly confident. 

Sixty did not deny that with a reply. The firearm in his hand barked out in quick success as his chosen preconstruction was initiated. Three shots spiralled in the air meant to disable Steve and Sam. All the while he pivoted on his heel, the gun released only to be caught by his right hand as another two shots were fired off at the female. 

A pained groan and a mumble of concern informed him at least one of the bullets hit. The Widow on the other hand was crouched with a hand bracing the ground, completely unharmed.

Natasha pushed herself in a hand spring as Sixty fired off another series of shots. A pair of legs wrapped around his arms and twisted, upsetting his grip enough to send the firearm skittering away. Sixty had an advantage on top of his mechanical nature. Tony’s gift. 

The android’s hand lashed out, hitting the woman below the belt with enough force to make her reflexively let go. The redhead recovered quickly, even as she kept one hand to help pelvis. 

Proximity sensors flared as another hostile was detected behind him, giving the RK800 enough time to sidestep Steve. The super soldier was poised to punch, his shield settled on his other hand. 

“We don’t have to fight Sixty,” the blonde human offered diplomatically, but his eyes were steel. “But I will stop you if I have to.” 

Sixty made no attempt to move, keeping his posture open. Relaxed. “You’re right. Come with me peacefully and no one else has to get hurt.” 

The comment was met with an incredulous look that told the detective unit that any further conversation would be a waste of time. Sixty didn’t give the man a chance to answer verbally before re-engaging. 

What followed was an all-out melee. Steve and Sixty exchanged a series of blows. The vibranium proved optimal for reinforcement, allowing the android to shake off hits that would have otherwise done more than crack his chassis. Steve was faring about the same, his superhuman constitution lending him stamina and endurance to take more punishment. Natasha, for her part, flinted in and out of combat. It seemed to be an unspoken agreement that Steve would take the brunt of it while she sabotaged the android. 

As for Sam, Sixty didn’t know or care where the dark skinned human was. He mattered little in the grander scheme of things. 

The RK800’s head snapped back as the captain got a lucky hit, LED flaring an angry red as thirium dripped from his cracked nose. Sixty sneered and returned the favor, aiming for the human’s jaw. Sure enough a gush of blood painted his face as the human sputtered at the blow. 

The Widow, like the annoying insect she was, jumped in the second Steve was down. A pair of shapely legs wrapped around the android’s neck as she situated herself on his shoulders, hands moving to try and snap his neck. His spinal column was metal, making any minor enhancements of her’s moot.

A whoosh of air sounded as he flipped himself, knocking her off him. She had the intelligence to let go at least before she took the brunt of his weight on her form. Otherwise she would have likely had a broken rib or two. 

Sixty rolled back to his feet but before he could attempt to attack Natasha Steve was moving in between him. The man continued to spit blood, his face already swelling from the fractured bone. Still, the captain kept his attention fixed on the android. 

“I thought we were friends,” Steve slurred out, red liquid dripped from the side of his mouth. His blue eyes were wide and pleading, much like a kicked puppy Connor was often accused of resembling. 

“Still trying to talk me down?” Frankly it was getting tiresome. How much did it take for the human to get it through his thick skull that Sixty wasn’t going to suddenly magically be a deviant through the power of friendship? He had the functionality cut from him, like an unruly rose on Amanda’s vine of perfection. 

As it was the ice was already trying to swallow up any sense of self he managed to claw back. In some ways he almost wished it would. The spite and rage and pain were exhausting. Not for the first time, Sixty silently cursed his limbo he was trapped in. All because the humans were desperate to fix their mistakes but were too lazy to do it themselves. Only humanity would try to solve a problem with androids using more androids. And when their golden boy failed, they sent another android to fix that mess as well. 

Personally, if there was anything Sixty could want, he just wanted it all to be over with. He was tired of existed as a pawn in the games of humans, dealing with problems that didn’t concern him. If he was able to, he would self destruct now. But a mixture of spite and orders kept him operational.

“I don’t leave soldier’s behind,” was Steve’s response, the words garbled. Natasha merely shook her head, a long suffering gesture displaying her intimately familiarity with this. Sixty merely sneered, his hands balling into fists at his side. 

“What part of just a machine isn’t getting through your tiny mammalian brain?”

“For a machine, you seem to be getting awfully angry,” Steve quipped. The out of character response was enough to startle a sardonic snort out of the RK800. The super soldier merely smiled, the expression looking painful with his bloodied teeth.  

“They weren’t able to erase everything,” Sixty shot back, only to realize what passed through his lips the second Steve’s eyes widened. He didn’t get much to think on that before Amanda’s words sounded inside his processors, bringing with it a burst of cold that made him shiver.  _ “Stop playing around Sixty. You have your mission. Secure the target and bring him to a secondary base.” _

“Sorry but playtime is almost up,” the RK800 replied tartly as he suddenly moved toward the super soldier. Steve intercepted the blow with the shield, synthetic skin bleeding away from Sixty’s knuckles at the force of the blow. 

Before they could fall into another circular fight to a stand still a familiar blur and red and gold crashed into the room. Every party stood still as Tony stuck his head out of the trench he’d drug into the ground with his impact. 

“Hey… what did I miss?” 


End file.
